Two Worlds
by BrokenNarsil16
Summary: Vegeta is a cold and ruthless warrior, training to defeat an android menace he has yet to see. Yet as he remains at the Capsule Corp, he begins to draw ever closer to technology's daughter, and the rollercoaster ride that ensues is recorded here...
1. Chapter 1

**Two Worlds – 1**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

That boy said they'd be here in three years. Not much time to train, but more than enough if I have anything to say about it. Stuck at this earth woman's residence, but they have the technology to provide me with adequate training equipment. Well, despite the fact that it breaks regularly, it's adequate. Although I suppose it could be worse.

I will become a Super Saiyan if it's the last thing I ever do. The androids will be no match for me once I achieve my goal, and by my race I will. So I will return to my training, pushing my body and mind to their limits, and beyond, in order to become the strongest.

* * *

Vegeta returned to his training capsule after his meal to resume training. He would go from the hour he woke until he could hardly stand up at night. Then he would sleep with dreams of surpassing Kakarott and the boy who had killed Frieza. And through it all he maintained his determination and grim-set strength as his most prized means for achieving his end. 

And today was no different. Firing up the engines of the simulator, he started again with pushups and sit-ups. Afterwards, he stretched his limbs and practiced his forms with punches and kicks. He fired blow after blow as rapidly as he could, an invigorating heart and muscle exercise, which he progressed steadily. Soon he was in the air, flipping and flying, all at over three hundred times earth's normal gravity.

When he was thoroughly winded, he took a small breather and fired up the droids. They floated around in the air, beeping and humming their mechanical tune. When he was ready, Vegeta fired off an energy blast at the droid, whose shielding unit deflected it back at Vegeta. He dodged the blast, which was caught by another droid, and it spat it back at him. This progressed for hours, all the while Vegeta testing his speed and reflexes against his own blast. Yet he did tire, and when he did, he slipped and didn't move fast enough to avoid the ball. It struck him in the back and sent him spiraling to the ground in smoke.

With a grunt, he forced himself into a standing position, every move a struggle against such gravity. But if he could become used to it, and move freely in such an atmosphere, imagine his abilities under normal conditions. So he started again, and continued his workout.

* * *

The Saiyan Prince emerged from the capsule well after nightfall. He stalked into the Capsule Corp. housing building and made for the kitchen. After rummaging through the pantry and fridge, he sat at the table with a double-armful of food. He was in the middle of inhaling it when the earth woman with the blue hair entered the room. 

"Looks like we need another trip to the grocery store. Jeez, Vegeta, why do you eat so much?" Bulma crossly addressed the warrior at her table.

"Shut up, woman! I will eat what I please and when I please." Vegeta said through a

mouthful of food.

"Why don't you learn some manners, 'Mr. Prince of all Jerks'?" Bulma placed both hands on her hips, a sign Vegeta had learned which meant the woman wanted to fight. He really wasn't in the mood to indulge her, but he couldn't let her think she'd won.

"You had best show me the proper respect or else I'll blow this entire city into oblivion!" He stood and yelled, shoving the table away from him with force enough to send the food flying to the other side of the room.

Bulma was taken aback by his hostility. Vegeta was always an asshole, but rarely did he do such as this. In truth, Vegeta was a bit shocked as well by his outburst. He didn't exactly mean to throw his meal everywhere while proving his point.

"Now look what you've done." She didn't yell, but her quiet tone of slightly sorrowful fatigue angered Vegeta even more. It stirred pity and remorse in his heart, and he wanted nothing to do with those emotions. They made one weak, like Kakarott, and the Prince of Saiyans could not be weak. He turned and left with a grunt, but stopped in the doorway.

"I...apologize." And with that he left, heading to shower and finally sleep. Bulma remained however, staring at the doorway in disbelief. The haughty Prince had just said he was sorry for something he'd done. A monumental day this was indeed.

* * *

"Apology indeed! I had no reason to apologize, I have no regrets. She shouldn't have started with me about such things and I wouldn't have done that. But still, I don't know why I said it at all. Never mind, it was a mistake that will not happen again." Vegeta boiled his way down the hall towards the bathroom. He snagged a towel from the closet (he never wanted to repeat his first ordeal with showering at this residence), and turned on the water. 

He was still mad, but still confused as to what possessed him to apologize to that woman. Bulma was her name, he thought. Yet there was something about her he admired a bit; a fiery temper and attitude almost rival to his own.

The water was warm enough now, so he climbed in. He let the warm torrent wash his body and cleanse his spirit. There's nothing quite like a nice hot bath at the end of a hard day. But Vegeta found he couldn't relax and meditate like usual. For some reason, the incident with that Bulma woman kept interrupting his thoughts. The scene would play over and over in his head, and he was powerless to prevent it.

So finally cleaning himself and giving up trying to relax, he turned off the water and reached for his drying cloth. Dry and squeaky clean, he stepped in front of the mirror and brushed his teeth. Even a Saiyan maintains good hygiene, if for no other purpose than fighting (it would be far more painful to be punched in a mouth with no teeth).

And at a late eleven at night, the warrior retired to his bed. It was positioned only one room away from Bulma, and as he closed his eyes, a monstrously loud dissonance penetrated the two walls between their respective rooms. Almost every night, she insisted on blaring that infernal noise she called music, as if she were deaf.

Vegeta usually used this as an opportunity to meditate and tone out the noise for sleeping, but this had been an off day since the end of training, and he couldn't focus his mind into a blockade against the onslaught. He tossed and turned for nigh on half an hour before he finally decided to shut her up personally.

Climbing out of bed, he went to his door and exited the room. He found Bulma's room

easily enough...it was the source of the screeching blasts of noise that offended his ears. With a loud bang on the door, he made himself known. The volume reduced to tolerable, and he heard the woman walking towards the portal. She opened it, and nearly fell over in shock when she saw who was calling.

"Vegeta? What...what do you want?" She was more surprised and curious than angry. Vegeta was preparing an earful of laying down the law for her, but for some reason, he couldn't yell.

"I can't sleep with that noise...turn it down...please." He straightened like a board after realizing what words had just left his mouth. He had just kicked his own pride in the gut. But Bulma was too amazed at his actually requesting her do something rather than demanding, and he even used please...could this day get any weirder?

"Uh...okay." She stood there and stared at this man, this rude and arrogant killer, who had never done anything to her but be an asshole. She couldn't figure out why he hadn't simply broken down the door and blasted her stereo. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw something different than usual. She saw a wonder and curiosity, anger at this desire for knowledge, and an aggravation at why he couldn't figure it out. 'Maybe he's trying to change' she thought to herself.

On the other hand, Vegeta stood in the doorway of this earth woman, this small and fragile creature who had given him more than enough reason to lay waste to her and everything around her on numerous occasions, only to find that he could do naught but look at her. He had gotten what he wanted, and now he should turn and go back to bed. But something in her eyes bid him stay a while longer. He could see the searching in her eyes, and could feel the same in his own being...but he didn't want it! He didn't need any of this foolishness and nonsense; distractions from becoming strong. And yet there it was, as sure as he was standing there, although as he continued to stare into the woman's eyes, he wasn't sure if he was there at all, but inside her blue eyes.

And that did it, he was a Saiyan no matter what, and his pride would not let his mind continue down the path it was wanting to go. With an abrupt turn, he walked back down the hall and opened the door to his room. With a last glance back at Bulma, who was still watching him in wonder, he disappeared into his chamber.

* * *

'What was that?' Bulma asked herself, as she sat on her bed. Her music was completely off, that being a minuscule trifle now. But she couldn't mistake that she had seen something in Vegeta. She laid down, staring at the ceiling and pondering these new riddles. 

'What's wrong with me!' Vegeta's head was swimming with personal agony, 'allowing myself to stand in some woman's doorway, staring like a fool...after I _asked_ her to turn off that noise, no less! I have no time for such idiotic distractions, and all she has been for the better part of my evening is a distraction. But still...why has she been affecting me so?' He lay there pondering for a few more hours, but his fatigue got the best of him, and he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Next day he redoubled his efforts. Again using the droids as deflectors to an energy beam which he dodged, he danced about the capsule in training. He did this for quite some time, his tired body begging him to stop, yet he continued. All he could see was the face of that woman, and he was determined to push it out with the hardest of training. But it was for naught, as he didn't move fast enough, and was stricken down by the blast. 

The energy bounced about the droids, while he was on the floor, and finally shot back at him for another round. There was no way his worn out body could dodge, so he formed another beam and shot this one at the one coming for him. They met in midair, and exploded, a blast issuing forth so powerful as to demolish his entire capsule.

Back in the Capsule Corp. building, Bulma was holding a pastry her mother had brought, not hungry, but still pondering the events of the previous night. She stared at the cake and wondered about what Vegeta could have meant by such actions. But before her mind could put much together, an explosion rocked the premises, forcing her to smash the cupcake into her face.

They all knew what had happened, however, and Bulma ran outside in fright. She met Yamcha on the way, he was just come to visit for the day, "Hey Bulma, where's the fire?" She blew past him, without a word. He ran after her, thinking maybe the androids had come early or something.

When they arrived, they saw the ruined capsule, and the pile of rubble which used to be its wall, "Vegeta!" Bulma cried, kneeling down in dismay.

"I knew this would happen," Yamcha said, "he's been trying to do the impossible."

"Where is he? Vegeta?" Bulma began to dig through the rubble, paying no heed to Yamcha's remarks. She grew increasingly worried, as she found no trace of the Saiyan, when a bruised hand shot up from the debris.

Bulma fell back with a yell, knocking Yamcha over, scared by Vegeta's hand. She was relieved, however, that he wasn't dead. And indeed, the battered and sore body of Vegeta soon emerged form the wreckage, grunting with pain as he rose.

"You...okay?" Bulma asked, still atop Yamcha on the ground.

"Of course I am..." He stood up straight as he could, trying to retain his pride and dignity in the face of such a mess. Bulma sighed with relief, but soon remembered she should be mad at him.

"How dare you, you dweeb! You almost wrecked my house...what are you trying to prove!" Vegeta stiffened his back, gathering his bearings, and tried to laugh her off. But he was too wounded, and fell to the ground in a splash of rocks and bolts.

"Oh no, you...you're hurt!" Bulma cried, running over to his side and lifting his head. Vegeta chucked, noticing her anger faded away in an instant.

"No...I don't need help. I've got...training to do." He could hardly keep his eyes open, but he knew he must persevere despite this setback.

"You've got to stop training for a while, I mean look at you...you're a complete wreck!" She tried to clutch his shoulder to emphasize her point, but she doubted he could feel it.

"But I feel fine. I'm a Saiyan...I can take a little pain, it means nothing to me. And I have to get stronger than Kakarott." He looked into her eyes, seeing the same sparkle he did last night. But this was different. She was actually worried about him...no one had ever been concerned weather he lived or died. But he couldn't concentrate on it too much, his vision was fading in and out.

"Okay, sure. We all know you're a tough guy...but you need to rest now." She smiled, something in her admiring his persistence in getting stronger, even in the face of such a catastrophe.

Yamcha looked on in disbelief, his girlfriend having forgotten about him completely for this Saiyan monster who couldn't care less about her.

"I take orders from no one!" Vegeta declared, forcing his way out of her hands in an attempt to stand once again. He couldn't stand the feeling he got when she was around, and he had to get away. But it was in vain, for he fell flat on his face when he was free of her support.

"Oh no." Bulma cried, grabbing for him again. She picked his body up to find he had passed out, "don't just stand there, help me take him inside!" She yelled to Yamcha, who broke from his trance and reluctantly picked the Saiyan Prince up. Under Bulma's direction, he carried him into the building and to his room.

Soon Dr. Brief had outfitted his bed with the necessary medical equipment to make him better. He was bandaged and cast, his cuts and broken bones being tended, and he was put on a respirator to aid his breathing. In all the insane gravity, his lungs had suffered severe damage when being put to such a task as breathing. A few good weeks of resting would do him wonders.

"Is he going to be alright, daddy?" Bulma asked, crouched in worry at his bedside. It frightened her more than she realized at seeing the proud, strong man in such a state.

"I hope so. The only thing he hasn't bruised is his eyebrows. If he stays in bed a week or so, he should be alright. He's dodged the bullet again...it's a miracle he survived such a horrible accident. Those Saiyans are practically indestructible." Dr. Brief said.

"Oh, poor Vegeta." Bulma's mother wept into a napkin, her never having been one to withstand such occurrences.

"Come on, dear. Let's let him rest," the doctor said, escorting her out of the room.

"You lunkhead." Bulma said, standing to leave. She turned, but thought she caught Vegeta say something. She looked back at him and listened.

"Kakarott, I'll get stronger. Kakarott! I'll beat you!" He winced in his sleep, his mind filled with thoughts of surpassing his greatest rival.

'He's having a bad dream' Bulma said to herself, noticing Vegeta's actions.

* * *

Indeed Vegeta was caught in a nightmare, running down a dark passage as hard as he could. He couldn't find the end, but the countenance of Kakarott appeared, blocking his way. Soon the boy who claimed to be a Saiyan was there too, both of them blocking his path in a mocking jeer of their achievement which he had not yet grasped. 

With a grin, they went Super Saiyan, rubbing it in that Vegeta did not have this talent. The latter powered to his full, trying desperately to overcome the two beasts, but it was to no avail. They began to recede, taking the secret of the transformation with them, and Vegeta was helpless to follow.

Angered at his plight, he remembered the words of his father, who had told him that one day he would become a Super Saiyan and surpass all the low-levels. But it wasn't now. No, he still had to work harder than he ever imagined and only then would he be worthy of the power.

"I haven't forgotten what you said, father. I haven't forgotten my destiny." It was all clear now, he would become a Super Saiyan, come hell or high water, "I _am_ a Super Saiyan!"

* * *

With a start, he came to, rising in the bed despite his aches and pains. His path was clear once again, and he would follow it now. Wanting to continue training as soon as possible, he threw back the covers and sat up in bed. But upon looking to his right, he beheld the earth woman sleeping at the desk next to his bed. 

'What is she doing here?' he thought to himself, wondering why she would care to remain in his room. Then he remembered her concern for him when the capsule exploded. A warmth flowed through him, an unwelcome feeling, but one that he didn't entirely disown. But quickly behind those thoughts, he realized another; his gravity room was destroyed, "So it's old-school for a while." With a painful grunt, he stood and stumbled his way outside.

* * *

When Bulma woke, she had a headache from using the desk as a pillow. Her hair was a wreck and her patient was nowhere to be found, "I swear, he's going to kill himself." She said, quickly exiting the room. 

She followed the trail of discarded bandages and dripped blood from a particularly bad wound on his chest that wouldn't stop bleeding. It led outside into the yard where the capsule used to be.

There the Prince was doing pushups, a puddle of blood under his body, and his leg sickly bent in the wrong direction from his bone being broken and it trying to support the weight of his body for pushups.

"Vegeta stop! You can't be doing this now!" Bulma ran over to him, but he continued his workout.

"Leave, woman. I am in no need of your assistance. I appreciate your care earlier, but I am perfectly fit to handle myself now." He lowered his body, but upon the incline, his leg gave way, landing on his shattered knee which elicited a yell of pain from the warrior.

"Vegeta!" Bulma ran to him and placed a hand on his shoulder for support, "please stop. You need to rest. Think of it this way: when you get better, you can train twice as hard as you can now."

"What...do you care?" Vegeta asked between ragged gasps.

"Because..." Bulma started, but stopped for a moment, "Because you have to defeat the androids, and you can't if you don't become a Super Saiyan."

Vegeta grunted at her comment, "I thought that's what you all have Kakarott for. He's the mighty hero, right?"

"Well, the way you've been training, if you reach Super Saiyan, I don't see how anyone can be stronger than you." She moved in front of Vegeta, and sat down with him on the ground.

This comment took Vegeta off guard. No one had ever called him the strongest but himself, and he didn't know how to handle it, "I suppose I should thank you now. But I won't. Don't try to suck up to me, woman. I don't care about this planet, and I have every intention of leaving once the androids are dead." He stuck his nose in the air, but Bulma ignored his gesture. She was determined to get to the root of him, here and now.

"What is it that makes you think you can't talk to people? You don't have to thank me, but I'm not sucking up. Why don't you trust anyone, or believe anyone? Will you tell me, please?" She leaned in closer, staring intently at him. She noticed the apprehension in him, but saw also what was almost like a lost child, eager to be wanted.

"You wouldn't understand," He said, lowering his head, "No one can. To live your life under the rule of another, the tyranny and oppression from the creature who killed your whole planet. To have to depend on him for your survival, and serve him...plotting each and every day how you will finally kill him someday. Then your chance comes, and you find that despite all your training and preparation, your aren't strong enough. And worse, a low level, a man of no importance, having no pride in his own heritage...he is the one to kill him.

"And then you learn that not only has he surpassed you, he has achieved the legendary transformation of the Saiyan race. He is the Super Saiyan, the strongest force in the universe. I had been promised this since I was a child, raised to believe it was my right, my lineage as royalty of a warrior people. To see it snatched from under you by a man who doesn't even have the pride to call the Saiyans his own people!

"Yet all I've done, all my work, for all these years...it is for nothing but watching Kakarott beat me again and again. So I have to let everything else go, any and all ties are but roadblocks in my way. I must have a clear view of my goal, unobstructed by anything. Only then will I be able to be the best." Vegeta kept his head lowered for some time, staring intently at an ant that scurried about in building his home.

And Bulma looked at him in a new light. She knew now the reason for his ways, his attitude and his mannerisms. It was all a defense, placed from his childhood against all the cruel and terrible events that had plagued his life. As she considered this, tears formed in her eyes, and she felt a deep remorse for her past regard of him. Though now she felt she understood him.

Vegeta raised his head to see her, tears in her eyes and a solemn look about her face. This unnerved him, more so that he already was, having told so much to her, so much that he never told anyone

"I'm sorry, Vegeta." Bulma whispered, placing a hand on his knee.

"Save your pity." He tried to be cross, but it didn't work. He had already bared too much of his soul to revert to his temper. He took her hand to move it, but when he grasped it, he found he couldn't let go. He stared at the meeting of their extremities, wondering at what power her hand had over his in the way of paralysis. And when he raised his eyes to meet Bulma's, he found a small smile on her face.

"So this is how it is, huh?" They both turned to see Yamcha, standing a few feet away.

"No Yamcha, it's not what you think." Bulma stood, and went over to him, trying to explain.

"I don't want to hear it! You're always ragging me about me running around on you. And now here you are, having a nice picnic with him! Don't you remember who he is? He tried to kill us all a few years back!" He turned to leave, but Bulma grabbed his arm, "Let me go!" He yelled, slinging his arm free of her grasp, and knocking her to the ground as well.

"You worthless insect." Vegeta said, standing with a great deal of pain to face the man, "I'd like to see you handle someone your own size like that." He limped his way towards Yamcha, who took a step back. Vegeta was in horrible shape, but he still struck fear into the heart of the earthling.

"Vegeta, stop. You can't do this." Bulma begged him, standing.

"No," He said, continuing his approach, "I have never liked this one anyway. You think you are mighty, handling women with such force? You know nothing of true might. You are pathetic, even by Kakarott's standards." Vegeta was now face to face with Yamcha. The latter didn't run, but was having a hard time keeping his jaw from clattering.

"I didn't mean to, Vegeta. I swear. I would never hurt her, you gotta believe me." He tried to laugh it off, but the Saiyan maintained an ice-cold stare into his quavering eyes. In a flash, his hand was around the earthling's throat, lifting his body from the ground.

"I should crush you right here. But I'm going to save it for the androids, and relish your demise at their hands. Then I'll destroy them, you, everyone with my power!" His grip tightened, enough to completely cut the breathing ability of the human, but not enough to kill him. And with a flick of his arm, Vegeta sent Yamcha face-first into the ground.

The human stood, wiped the dirt from him as best he could, and left running, "Vegeta." Bulma said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"No," The Prince said, shrugging her hand, "I will not allow myself to become weak. Do not expect such a show from me ever again." He started to walk away.

"It's not weakness," Bulma said under her breath, "to care."


	2. Chapter 2

**Two Worlds – 2**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

Two weeks passed, without much ado in the way of Vegeta and Bulma. After the incident with Yamcha, Vegeta had flown off, to heaven knows where, and stayed there for a week. Yamcha hadn't come around again, knowing what was best for him, and Bulma grew a bit more distant from her family, taking to long periods of time by herself, and long nights working on diverse trinkets. In fact it was because of her in a large part, that the gravity capsule was replaced in only a few days.

And on a stormy night in mid-May, a battered and angry Saiyan pranced through the doors of Capsule Corporation, and headed for the housing building.

"Well, look who's back," Dr. Brief said, being the first one to see Vegeta's return, "good to see you, my boy." A grunt was the only reply the warrior uttered.

With a black cloud over his head, he rounded the corner into the room which housed the lion's share of gadgets and gizmos of Capsule Corp. Bulma sat, nose buried in a complex machine, and didn't notice the Saiyan's presence.

"Woman, have you repaired my capsule?" Vegeta bellowed, eliciting a jolt from the seated earthling.

"Vegeta?" Bulma said, turning around quickly. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, despite his abject appearance and obvious lack of proper healing.

"That is my name. Now answer my question!" He looked to the side, not wanting to meet her eyes. He had dreaded this moment since this morning. He knew he must return to get good training, yet he didn't want to face this woman who stirred such awkward emotions in him. The last words she had ever spoken to him, those of caring...he had thought of that word every day of his absence. Is that what had been happening to him? Did he...care about her?

"Yes...it's fixed," Bulma said, her bright mood quickly falling away into one of downcast glum.

"Very well." Vegeta said, turning immediately to leave. He walked to the doorway and stopped, staring into the hall.

"I'm...glad you're back." Bulma offered, hoping he'd maybe stay and talk. Vegeta said nothing in reply, and walked away.

* * *

Indeed his injuries were not any better than they were the day he left. He had trained lightly...well lightly by his standards, in the wilderness. But the wounds hadn't had proper healing. He had manually set his broken bone, and placed new bandages about the areas where he was cut the worst, but Bulma knew he wasn't well by a longshot.

Yet the pride of a true Saiyan being what it is, Vegeta would never admit to this, whether he knew it or not. So when he entered his new gravity capsule, finding it could support up to four hundred times gravity...he cranked it up to max.

And beginning his workouts with pushups, like usual, he proceeded to return to the routine of preparation for the coming androids. After warmups, he flew into the air, and begun to spin, cartwheels in midair, working his energy control for levitation and his entire body strength in the way of the gravity pull. But in the middle of this, a view screen (which had not previously been there) turned on in the wall, showing the face of the earth woman.

"Stop it, Vegeta! You are in no condition to be doing this right now!" Vegeta tried to ignore her, continuing his workout, "I know you don't want to believe it, but you are made of flesh and blood."

"Stop pestering me, woman! Leave me alone!" His diversion from his concentration caused him to lose his hold on flight, and fall to the floor with a crash.

"You know I'm right. So why don't you just keep quiet, and do as I say!" Bulma yelled, letting her temper slip into mode to match Vegeta's.

On the floor, the latter's anger was building. How dare this impudent woman interrupt his training with this nonsense?

"Nothing to say? Well that's good. Now go back to bed, and get some rest." Her tone quieted, thinking she had won this little argument.

"Not yet, I do have something to say..." Vegeta said, struggling with the gravity and his own mounting anger.

"What, is something wrong? Or maybe you're finally going to apologize to me. If that's the case, then let's hear it." Bulma said smugly, referring to Vegeta's previous rudeness in the Capsule Corp. building. She knew he knew what she was talking about.

"Leave me alone!" Vegeta yelled, shattering her moment of glory. And with a look of hurt feelings, her visage disappeared from the fading screen.

But Vegeta had taken enough of her mouth, and forcing himself up again, resumed his training.

* * *

He did not come out of the capsule, and only increased the weight of the gravity. Finding his cuts healed, he discarded his bandages and incinerated them with a blast, signifying his strength at overcoming pain.

And though his leg was healing slowly, Saiyans heal faster than humans, so it was getting along nicely by earth's standards. So he afforded more and more of his being into his training, feeling the grasp of Super Saiyan so close, but as yet out of reach. He did not know that to achieve this level, it did not require so much great strength, as a burning need for the power. But he was well on his way to wearing himself into a need for it.

* * *

In his absence from the Brief family, the absence in which he was self-locked into his capsule, he did not emerge for nigh on a week. Bulma was beginning to worry, though she didn't show it. It was obvious though, for at even the slightest mention of Vegeta, she would become agitated and launch into a tirade of hoping he killed himself in there and such. She knew how badly he was still damaged, and hoped he was alright...though she would never say this aloud.

When he finally did come out, some six days later, he stormed into the house as if nothing had happened. He was bruised and battered, his clothes were practically rags, and he stank of hours of sweat and uncleanliness. But he did have good bearings about him, and knew he smelled awful as well. So the first thing he did was get a shower and some fresh garments. Afterwards, he attacked the kitchen, eating nearly everything in the place. And when Bulma, along with Dr. And Mrs. Brief arrived from a shopping trip, they found the Saiyan pigging himself on their last scrap of food.

"Woman, I hope you've got something else to eat in those bags...I am still hungry." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and staring at her. She was indeed quite glad that he was alright and back in their lives, even if this meant they would have to make another trip to the grocery store.

"Well we don't, so you're going to have to be hungry for a while longer." She said in a huff, matching his attitude.

"Well, good to see you're still alive, my boy." the doctor said, setting his armful of bags on the counter. Vegeta grunted at this, wondering why this old man insisted on referring to him as his 'boy'.

"Yes, Vegeta," Mrs. Brief said, "did you get a good workout? Y'know I think you're training the hardest of all."

"Of course I am." Vegeta said, giving her comment the time of day. At least she had the proper respect due a Saiyan Prince.

"Well, I'm going back to the store for food...anyone coming with me?" Bulma asked, grabbing the keys from the ring on the wall.

"Well, I'd better stay and put up the things we got the first time." Her mother answered, setting herself to work.

"And I need to handle some business orders from our customers," Dr. Brief said, "Why don't you take Vegeta?" He meant this in jest, but the Prince chose to ignore his humor.

"I am not going!" He declared, crossing his arms defiantly. Bulma laughed a bit, and played into her father's joke.

"Oh come on, Vegeta. You can help me pick out what you want to eat so you won't complain as much when we don't have what you want." She looked at him pleadingly, and he only scowled deeper in return.

"Fine, whatever." He said, standing. The Brief family nearly fell over in shock.

"What?" Bulma asked, reeling from his answer.

"You wanted me to go, right?" Vegeta said, his anger building.

"Well...sure." She said, opening the door, "After you?" Without a word, Vegeta stalked out of the house. Bulma followed suit behind, still wondering why he decided to come. She figured he'd actually seen logic in picking out his own food, being able to get what he wanted.

"Vegeta, the car's this way." She said, turning down the driveway.

"No, I'm not taking that pathetic excuse for a vehicle anywhere."

"Then how are we going to get to town, walking?" Bulma put her hands on her hips, angered at her car being called pathetic. But Vegeta said nothing, levitating in the air and landing next to her, "You're not serious."

"I am always serious." Vegeta said, his face unchanged. Bulma gingerly took hold of the Saiyan's arm and held tight. She was rather impressed by his physique, but didn't doubt it, for all the training he'd put himself through, "Now hold on and don't let go. I am not going to go easy just because you're a woman."

"And what does _that_ have to do with anything?" Bulma demanded, insulted by his sexist remark. But before she could continue, they blasted off into the sky, heading for the heart of town. She clung to Vegeta's arm with a deathgrip, having forgotten how the world looked from so high up without the assistance of a vehicle. But for some reason, despite her predicament and the cold-blooded killer upon which her life depended, she felt relatively safe.

"Now what direction is this store? I don't want to waste any more time than I have to here." Vegeta said, his to-the-point nature shining through.

"East, about two miles. It's that long low building there." Bulma pointed, and the Prince saw where she was directing him. And picking up speed, he angled his flight downwards on a collision course with the store.

In about a few moments, they were there, landing in the parking lot of the grocery store. People stopped and stared in awe at these two who had fallen from the sky. But as Bulma looked at the store, she realized what had happened.

"Vegeta." She said, mentally kicking herself for what she had let happen.

"What?" He asked, scowling at a particularly nosy man who was staring rather hard at them.

"How are we going to get the groceries home?" She had a bemused smile on her face, as if this whole incident were a bit comical. In fact it was, and even the proud warrior found it thus as well. Of course he didn't show it.

"What were you thinking, you crazy woman?" Vegeta accused, staring at the store, as if it would give him an answer.

"Me! You're the one who insisted on flying! You're the one who said my car wasn't good enough for your stuck-up ass! And now you're the one trying to blame me? It's not happening!" Bulma crossed her arms and scowled, mocking the Prince who was doing the same. Neither of them said anything for a while, as they both stood, sharing the same stance.

But after a bit, Vegeta looked down and smiled, letting go a huff that sound almost like a chuckle. And Bulma wasn't much better off, giggling like a child.

"Well what do you propose we do, since you're the one with such intelligence? Should we fly all the way back home and get your vehicle?" Vegeta asked sarcastically, a grin on his face.

"It's the only thing I can think of...unless you can carry all the food you're going to eat in your arms." She cocked an eye at him, putting him on the spot.

"Of course I can! The problem isn't the weight, it's the dimensions of the packages, and" Bulma cut him off with a finger to his lips.

"Sure, whatever. Now let's go back." She grabbed hold of his arm, lightly kicking him in the leg. He wanted to be angry with her and say some rude remark, but he couldn't bring himself to. He actually found the incident rather funny, despite the setback it caused. So again he took flight, and rocketed off towards the Capsule Corporation.

When they arrived, they headed for the car and got in. Bulma was in charge this time, and though he knew he was completely safe in the air, come hell or high water, the notion of her controlling something he was in frightened Vegeta a little.

And sure enough, she took off like a bat out of hell, giving the speed Vegeta had used to get to the store a decent run for its money. 'Nowhere near as fast as I can fly though' he noted, smug that his own powers overcame those of this machine.

But eventually they arrived, and this time they did it as normal people. Vegeta exited the vehicle, banging his head on the unfamiliar roof, and evoking a wave of laughter from Bulma.

"Quit your laughing, woman." Vegeta said, storming into the store.

"Sorry, are you alright?" She said, suppressing her amusement.

"Of course I am. But I think your car may need a new roof." He said the latter almost quietly, a humored grin on his face. Bulma smirked in amazement at Vegeta having actually joked.

They grabbed a few carts, Vegeta's appetite what it was, and proceeded to walk the isles of the mart, grabbing various items and foodstuffs.

"Can I help you find anything?" A young guy asked, passing them on an isle he was stocking. Vegeta was first in line, and he walked by without a word, scowling at the boy.

"No, thank you." Bulma said, passing.

"Well that guy was rude." the kid said to himself, after they had passed. Vegeta heard the remark, however and turned to the boy with quite a frightening face.

"Oh come on, Vegeta," Bulma said, grabbing his arm, "can't you just relax a little? I mean, you don't have to be on your guard all the time, like somebody's going to attack you here." She pulled the prince down the isle, away from his intended victim.

"It's not being on guard to deserve the proper respect from a servant. And if I am on guard, it's what I should be as a warrior." He would have crossed his arms in anger, had he not been pushing one of the carts.

They continued shopping, and finally finished. Three carts later, their car was loaded down with food, most of which the Saiyan had picked out himself. He was eager to get back to training, having already wasted over an hour with this escapade.

* * *

At around five that evening, Vegeta emerged from his capsule, dripping sweat and smelling bad as usual. He stormed through the Capsule complex, looking for Bulma. Finally finding her in the living room, watching the television, he proceeded to make his demands clear, "Woman, make the gravity on my machine go higher! I must reach five hundred."

"Vegeta, I really think you need to take it easy on the gravity," Bulma said, shocked at his demand. Two times gravity would be extremely difficult for most people to pull off, but five hundred!

"I did not ask you what you thought on the matter! Now make it go higher!" He yelled, about to back it up with more mouth, but Bulma jumped from the couch and stood right in front of his face.

"Now you listen here, you big jerk! I'll make your machine get more gravity, but only, and I mean only, after you loosen up a little! I won't be able to tolerate you for three whole years like this! Now we're going to do something fun this evening, say eating out somewhere. I suggest you get cleaned up and put some decent clothes on." Speaking the latter as if she were addressing a child, Bulma proceeded to walk out of the room, leaving Vegeta standing there, shocked.

'Did she just make all that up now?' He thought to himself, 'Going out to eat, what am I her date?' He considered this notion a moment, realizing that indeed that was the part he was playing in this. With a growl, he made for the showers.

He had nothing to wear but his various training outfits, so he had to make do with an outfit from Bulma. It was far better than the pink and yellow garb he had worn the first time here, and was more comfortable. A pair of blue jeans, with some flip-flops, and a white and blue striped polo.

"Well you look good." Bulma said, seeing Vegeta clean and dressed. And Vegeta had to admit himself, Bulma didn't look that bad either.

"I cannot believe you're blackmailing me like this." He said, as they got in the car to leave.

"It's not blackmail, it's business. But hopefully you'll have some fun tonight, and lose some of your damned thick-headed stiffness." Bulma said with a wink. Vegeta crossed his arms and scowled, looking out the window.

"Don't count on it." He growled.

* * *

The place at which they were to dine was actually part dance club. Bulma neglected to mention this until they arrived, after which she had to listen to Vegeta about how he was not going to dance, so don't bother asking. As they got out of the car, they saw the place was rather full, it being about seven at night and all.

"Vegeta, you could learn some manners, you know." Bulma said, stopping as he made his way through the door.

"What?" He asked, holding the handle.

"Haven't you ever heard the term, 'ladies first'?" She asked with a grin.

"No I haven't, but if it will speed things up, then go in front of me!" He threw his arm up, signifying for her to go first, as he held the door.

"Thank you." She said, brushing a flirtatious finger across his chin as she walked past.

'Earthlings and their customs' Vegeta thought, entering the place behind Bulma.

The inside was rather dark, despite it being night outside. The walls and ceiling beams were of dark woods, and red lights illuminated the place, giving the feel of an old tavern. But there were modern conveniences, such as televisions tuned to various sporting events and speakers to better hear the music of the band.

"The Brief party?" the hostess asked, seeing Bulma and her companion.

"Yes," Bulma said, showing her Capsule Corp. ID. The lady led them to a table, situated towards the back of the dining area, with a decent view of the band. The dance floor was to their left, behind a lowered portion of floor, and people were out there, swaying with the music.

Vegeta noticed that none of the seven odd tables around theirs had any occupants, despite that the entire place was full. Bulma answered his unasked question though, "Yeah, I reserved all of these. I know you don't like to be crowded."

'She did that for me?' Vegeta asked himself, wondering at this kindness. But his thoughts were interrupted by a waiter coming to their table.

"And what will you be having to drink this evening?" He asked Bulma, pad and pen in hand.

"I'll have a coconut daiquiri, please." She said.

"And you?" The waiter turned to Vegeta, his nose in the air and a definite tone of snobbiness in his voice.

"A Glathonian Blue-Water, and make it snappy." He turned his attention elsewhere, but noticed the waiter didn't leave.

"We...don't carry that beverage here." The man said, looking down on Vegeta's outlandish request.

"Just get him a Bud-Light." Bulma cut in, seeing that the warrior was about to either storm out of the place or kill the waiter.

"Very well." The man said, leaving. Vegeta snorted and turned his attention to the music this place was playing. It was horrible, akin to the screeching din Bulma was fond of hearing. The instruments had to be plucked, and apparently the players were wrestling with them, for they seemed to swing them about and reel and pitch with them as if they were alive. They wore ridiculous clothing, and painted their face like the barbarian tribes on the planet Hithir with dark around their eyes and on their lips. Their hair was either spiked in crazy directions worse than Kakarott, or it was hanging in their faces like mops. Vegeta wondered how they could possibly function with that hair. But Bulma, for some reason, was nodding her head and enjoying the tune of the noise.

"Oh come on Vegeta, it's just some punk!" She said, actually singing a part of the song they were whining as if they were crying.

"Punk? You mean they willingly call themselves that dishonorable name? I've heard animal mating calls better than this garbage." Vegeta scowled, averting his gaze to a television which housed a sporting contest. People were suited in armor, running about with a ball, apparently trying to reach the other end of the field with it. The violent nature of this appealed to the warrior, and he almost wished he could be out there to show those weaklings a thing or two about real strength.

"Here are your drinks." The waiter said as he returned, setting down their respective beverages. Vegeta picked up the bottle and inspected it, brown glass with blue labeling. He took a swig, pleasantly surprised at the taste. The woman had done well in her choice.

"Hello, I said what do you want to eat?" The waiter said, raising his voice at the Saiyan as he repeated his question. Vegeta was fed up with his insolence however, and grabbed the man's wrist hard.

"Give me everything on this side of the menu," The warrior said, referring to the steaks, "And that's not going to be a problem, is it?" He squeezed the man's wrist enough to elicit a small crack before he let go.

"No sir, not at all!" the man said, "and you, ma'am?" He referred to Bulma, who was smiling at Vegeta.

"Just a small sirloin with a salad and a baked potato." She handed him her menu and he promptly left.

"You earthlings have such frail appetites." Vegeta said, drinking more of his beer.

"Well not everybody burns thousands of calories a day in training." She said, sipping her own drink.

"True enough." He said, watching more of the television. The time passed, and their food came...and came and came. Vegeta finished three entire pages of the menu before Bulma even ate her single dish. But the warrior was far more pleasant to be around during dinner than Kakarott. Whereas the latter would gorge and stuff like a pig, Vegeta would actually take some time to wipe his face and hands and not smack and slobber everywhere.

After about six beers, the prince was loosened up enough to actually talk a little, jesting about the band and discussing the coming android menace and such. Bulma was enjoying this lighter mood in Vegeta, and wished he could be this nigh-pleasant all the time.

"So, are you still not going to dance?" She asked, motioning to the floor.

"No. I told you once, and I meant it then. I cannot and will not subject myself to that." He gulped another mouthful of alcohol and did his best to scowl, despite the smirk he had on his face.

'I'll give you one more beer before you change your mind on that.' Bulma said to herself, sipping her own drink. So the night wore on, the two having a rather good time, Vegeta not admitting it of course, and after the prince had downed another three beers, she tried her luck again with the dancing.

"Oh Please, Vegeta. This is a slow song, and all you have to do is just walk in kind of a circle." Bulma stood, and grabbed his hand, tugging on his arm.

"I...swear woman. If I mess up...I will not ever speak to you anymore...do you understand?" He stood, swaying a bit when his feet had to support him, but stumbled to the dance floor anyway. The song was indeed a bit slow, and by this time of night the band had retired, leaving the music to a DJ who spun diverse tunes for the different tastes.

This one was country, and though Vegeta didn't exactly favor the sad lyrics of this, it was better than the wailing homosexual nature of the 'punks'.

"Now what do I do?" He asked, standing on the floor with his arms crossed, stiff as a board.

"Well first you need to loosen up," Bulma said, manually uncrossing his arms. She closed the distance between them, and took his hands, placing one on her hip and holding the other. She placed her other hand on his shoulder, "Now just follow my lead."

She started by stepping about in a patterned rhythm, a really simple thing once used to it. Vegeta was indeed rather buzzed from his drinks and was having a difficult time keeping balanced. But he was a coordinated warrior first and foremost, and he would not let any task end in failure, so he put his concentration to the job and blocked out a lot of the dizzying effects of the drink.

"See, you're getting it." Bulma said, as they moved with the music, along with the other couples there. She only hoped no one bumped into them, for it would be quite the scene for a drunk Saiyan like Vegeta to start a barroom brawl. The place probably wouldn't even be standing after such.

Vegeta, on the other hand, was actually not even thinking about fighting. He was rapt in the strange sensation that was this slow dance. For some reason, it felt more intoxicating than the beers. But in a different way...her scent was rather nice, plus the softness of her skin was pleasurable to the touch. And those big blue eyes of hers...seemed to draw his very soul into the gaze. And with his lowered inhibitions, he was almost powerless to stop these feelings, even if he had wanted to.

Yet the beers did have an effect on him, and after a particularly tricky turn, he tripped over his own foot and fell face-first to the floor. A roar of laughter greeted him, and he felt his anger boiling over. How dare these fools laugh at the Prince of Saiyans? He was up in a flash, his power all but visibly radiating from him as he scoured the room. He was just about to let go with a blast that would have leveled the place when he caught sight of Bulma.

She stood in pure terror, a look on her face so frightened that even the mighty prince lost his will to kill these insolent insects. He knew she expected him to blow up, and she had taken that risk in bringing him to dance. But now he saw her, standing as bravely as she could, yet still in frozen fear of his temper.

Without a word, he turned and stormed out of the place, tearing the doors from their hinges as his only retort. As fast as he could manage, he flew back to the Capsule Corp. He felt a slight tinge of regret for leaving her like that, but he knew she could drive herself home. When he arrived, he landed on the ground, in a nice clear area and began to clear his mind. The drinks were really affecting him, and he hated when he was like this.

So he meditated, focusing his thoughts and feelings, and trying to push away the alcohol. He was there for no more than half an hour however, when he heard Bulma arrive in the car. He hoped she would not notice him and merely go inside, but his luck didn't hold. Sure enough, she came and plopped right in front of him, completely ignoring his meditative state. In turn, he tried to ignore her, but her persistent sitting and staring forced him to open his eyes and acknowledge her presence.

She looked a bit sad, and curious, but he didn't detect any anger...which was odd. He was about to make a rude comment, but she beat him to the speaking punch.

"I'm sorry, Vegeta." She said, looking down, "I know how proud you are and how bad something like that must have embarrassed you. But I want to thank you for not...well, for not killing everybody." She ended with a laugh, and Vegeta noticed her face brighten a bit. He was wanting very badly to tell her off, but he just couldn't. With each encounter with her, his cocky pride was knocked down notch by notch.

"I suppose you should be grateful I didn't blow the place to smithereens. But...excepting the dance...it was actually a pleasant night." He let go of his attempts to meditate, realizing that she wanted to talk, and his drunken state just wouldn't let him protest. So he sat, ready to hear whatever it was she had to say.

"I am grateful. And I'm glad you had fun. I figured you would." She said, a sly smirk framing her face, "But tell me something; were you having fun dancing...before you tripped?"

He sat there, knowing full well that he had been in fact enjoying her company. But he didn't exactly want to tell her this. But then he thought, 'I'm a Saiyan. I should hide nothing. I have nothing to be ashamed of.'

"Yes, it was enjoyable." He said, his lips forming the slightest sight of a smile. He recalled the affect she had unleashed upon his emotions, pleasing and not unwelcome at the time.

"Me too," She smiled and leaned back, saying nothing for a while. But after looking around a bit, she spoke again, "hey, this is the place where we first talked."

"No it isn't." Vegeta said, recalling their first meeting.

"No, I mean the first time we really talked. You told me about Frieza and your past. Then Yamcha came and all that happened." She frowned, thinking of the incident.

"Oh, well I suppose you're correct." He looked around, confirming her statement.

"Oh come on, Vegeta! Loosen up! You don't always have to be so proper and on-guard. You can talk to me, without worrying about your big-ass ego."

"Fine. But a warrior must always be on-guard. And don't forget that the androids will be here in a little over two years. And while I'm on the subject, I need to go to bed. I have to get up in the morning and resume my training. It's already a lot later than I need to be awake." He stood, turning to reenter the compound and make for his room.

"Now wait just a minuet, mister." Bulma said, still sitting. Vegeta stopped and looked at her, "remember what I told you about being a gentleman?" With a small growl, Vegeta extended his hand, and Bulma clasped it. He retracted his arm, pulling her into a standing position. Finished with his task, he was preparing to let go when Bulma flung her arms around his neck, "Now my room's just above here, so why don't you fly me up to my balcony and make the trip easier for me?" She gave a wink, and held on tight.

So Vegeta flew up, supporting Bulma with an arm around the small of her back, until they were above her balcony. He let her down and landed himself, curiously unwilling to leave. He stood there, looking at her, mind racing with thoughts as to why this one woman should be so different from all the rest. Somehow she had managed to work her way into his mind more than anyone had ever been able. The once-unwelcome feelings she stirred in him were fast becoming pleasurable, even desirable. And he could see in her eyes something of a reflection of these emotions. He could read her wonder at why the two of them seemed to be magnetic to the other, and the desire to understand it all. But apparently she had it better figured than Vegeta, for before he could come to any conclusion, she gingerly leaned forward and kissed him, then turned and vanished into the portal of her room.

* * *

AN: Yeah, long chapter. I think it went over pretty nicely though. I hate reading a VB fic where Vegeta's an ass for a few days then magically is head over heels for Bulma. I think it would be a rather slow process, taking quite a while to happen. But ya'll let me know if I'm going _too_ slow. Also, I don't have any real qualms against punk music. I just thought it'd be a bit comical to figure how Vegeta would react to it. Rock on, or whatever!

PS-(What part of the alphabet would look like with the letters q and r eliminated)


	3. Chapter 3

**Two Worlds – 3**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

Vegeta woke with a splitting headache. He knew it was the drink, but gritted his teeth and rose from his bed, ignoring the spinning room. Groggily, he made his way to the gravity room, and fired up the engines. He started with his pushups, cursing the alcohol with every repetition.

But the beer wasn't the only thing on his mind. He had gone to sleep still tasting her mouth on his, and wondering at why she had done that. To Saiyans, there were no such things as kisses. Affection was nonexistent, as the only reason to be a couple was to produce offspring. Though he knew full well what the act signified. He had witnessed it between humans, even Bulma and Yamcha.

But why had she kissed him? From what he had gathered, it was an earthling's way of expressing feelings for another, another who was quite a deal more important to the other than just a friend. So did she view him as her significant other? What right had she to make such a claim? The topic had never been discussed.

And yet...he couldn't say he didn't like it. It was an entirely new sensation; softness and gentleness, in contrast to his hard life of rough fighting. Completely alien to him it was, though in an odd way, comforting. Like returning home after a long voyage, or sitting beside a nice fire in the winter.

So as he worked his body, pushing out the effects of getting drunk, Vegeta searched his mind for answers to the riddle of Bulma.

* * *

When it came time to quell his grumbling stomach, Vegeta emerged from his capsule and made for the kitchen. There was no one there, for which he was grateful. Taking his pick of the fresh supply of food, he laid himself an array of edible goodies and proceeded to chow down. His hangover was but a thing of the past now, his Saiyan biology not permitting such a hindrance to remain inside his warrior being.

So he ate, focusing his mind on the coming android menace, and killing his hunger. Two and a half years seemed a long time away, but he knew from experience that one can never be too ready. And though he didn't really think about it, he wasn't exactly sure he trusted that boy, Kakarott, or the Namek who had spoken of the coming menace. These things may not even show, but it was a good excuse to train. A good excuse to be...here. Dropping his fork in puzzlement at this new realization, he began to ponder what had just ran through his mind. He liked it here? Absurd, these earthlings are weak and emotional and completely distasteful to a Saiyan Prince. Nevertheless, the suggestion had come from within, and in there the truth resides.

He was interrupted by another presence in the room. He looked to see Bulma coming through the door. Again he was reminded of last night, and that kiss. He stared at his plate, a bit too embarrassed to face her. She sat down across from him, and he slowly raised his eyes.

"Would it be possible for you to take two days off from training?" She asked, prepared for his tirade of needing every day to prepare and strengthen himself. But he said nothing for a moment.

"What for?" He asked, a bit snappy, but it beat the hell out of what she was expecting.

"Well...we've invited everyone over for a few days to visit and take a small break from training. I'd like you to be around." She smiled, hoping he'd go for it.

"I suppose I could, but only for two days." For some reason, the prospect didn't seem so bad when coming from her.

"Thanks, Vegeta," Bulma said, turning to leave, "and thank you for going with me last night. I had a lot of fun."

"It was somewhat enjoyable, wasn't it?" he said, allowing a smirk to come through.

Bulma chuckled as she left, humorously confounded at his Saiyan pride. 'Somewhat' indeed.

Nevertheless, Vegeta knew he had to work harder than usual for the rest of the day, since he had agreed to take the next two off. In fact, he had been starting to think about a small leave from training, to rest his body and let it heal. Though he hated the hindrance of 'proper' training, he knew he should only be working about half as hard as he usually did, with far more breaks in between.

So he hit the capsule again, having finished his meal. A session of severe warming down occupied the remainder of his evening, and at five, he came out. He showered, changed clothes, and entered the kitchen. This had become routine for him, and he could probably make his various rounds with his eyes closed if he so chose.

When he arrived in the kitchen, he saw Bulma sitting at the table, apparently waiting for him, "Hello, Bulma," he said, completely forgetting his arrogant front.

"Hey, Vegeta!" she said, rather excited for some reason. By this time, Vegeta had realized his lack of cockiness and said nothing else, hoping Bulma hadn't noticed as well. He filled his arms with food and sat at the table, prepared to kill his hunger, "I saw you watching that game last night, did you like it?"

Vegeta remembered the sporting event on the television at the restaurant, "Yes, it was rather interesting."

"Well how would you like to go to one?" Bulma asked, leaning over the table.

"You mean participate in the battle?" He looked up from his plate, wondering.

"Not exactly, I mean go to watch, spectate. It's actually a very popular sport called football. Lots of people like to watch it. There's a game tonight, in town. I was wondering if you might want to go?"

He pondered this for a while. The game was a pleasant distraction from the noise of the music last night, but he had hardly fallen in love with it. But it did present an opportunity to spend time with Bulma, which he had realized earlier he liked to do, "I suppose so."

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to." She said, seeing his lack of enthusiasm.

"No, I believe it would be entertaining." He actually broke a small smile, before returning to his plate.

"Great, well it starts at eight, so we have some time. After you eat, you can change, and we'll go. I'll get some more clothes for you to wear." She stood and left the room in a breezy stride.

'She is rather excited by this,' Vegeta noted, 'does she like the sport that much, or is it that she's gotten me to go?' At any rate, he finished eating, and headed for his room. He found some clothes on his bed, laid out by Bulma. Some khaki pants and leather shoes, with a long-sleeved, striped shirt that buttoned down the front, 'these earthlings and their clothes.'

He sat on the couch, having already been clean and changed of clothing, and now he awaited Bulma's arrival from the world of female readiness. He knew without much research that the process was always tedious, whether going our for a morning walk or to a nice establishment of quality. So he was half expecting the time it would take her to emerge. But he still was a bit frustrated, not fully understanding why she couldn't just throw something on and leave. But finally she did come out, looking the same as usual (which Vegeta noted was indeed rather attractive) but wearing an odd shirt. It had the visage of some fierce animal across the front.

"Like the shirt? It's our home team, the West City Razorsaurs." She spun around, as if to model the attire.

"The teams name themselves after animals?" Vegeta asked, not understanding this.

"Sometimes. It's the mascot, kind of a good luck charm to identify the team. We're playing the South City Scorpions." She proceeded towards the door, and Vegeta followed. He was a bit puzzled by these flashy titles and banners, but he understood their usefulness as a means of identification.

"I suppose we must endure your driving again?" He said as they exited the house (oddly enough, he had remembered her words about manners, and had held the door for her).

"And what does _that_ mean?"Bulma demanded, placing her hands on her hips.

"Well I'd much rather be out in the air this evening, the weather conditions are fit for being outdoors." As Vegeta stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, Bulma came to a realization. In his own way, Vegeta had just said it was a pleasant night out...how odd.

"I...guess it is," She said, slightly shocked at his relaxed mood, "so, shall we fly?" She placed her arms around his neck, and made herself ready for takeoff. And soon, they were floating in the air, dozens of feet above the Capsule Corp. grounds. With a much less abrupt move than the last time they flew, Vegeta proceeded towards the heart of town, following Bulma's directions to the stadium.

Meanwhile, his female passenger was speechless. He had shown so much difference today, but why? Maybe he was really starting to let go of his ego and try to have some fun. She decided she wouldn't say anything that may make him change his mind. Instead, she only pulled herself a little tighter to him as they flew.

* * *

Apparently Bulma had been planning this, for she possessed tickets for seats in the stadium. Having presented them to the guard at the entrance, they made their way to their seats. They were rather good ones, on the fifty-yard line two rows up from the field. Vegeta sat down, looking around in amazement at all the people and their shouting and cheering. He had only seen such devotion to a spectacle on the planet Boniria, as the gladiator arena came to life with bloody battle.

All the people made him rather ill at ease, him being a solitary being by nature. But for some reason, he quite profoundly wanted to be here with Bulma, and he wasn't in the mood to fight this notion. So he steeled himself against the raucous crowd and awaited the start of the game.

And soon enough, from the right corner of the arena, came a charging force of armored players, making themselves present to the crowds as they crossed the field and took up their positions at the side of the field closest to where Vegeta and Bulma were seated, "They're the Razorsaurs." Bulma said, referring to the team that had just entered the field. And indeed Vegeta could make out the same 'mascot' on their helms as Bulma had on her shirt. In a moment, the other team came forth, setting up their command post on the other side of the field. Vegeta thought the game would commence shortly, but he was mistaken. Both teams took nearly half an hour to practice their various tactics and skills before the game began.

Yet soon they did begin, and they did so by one team kicking the ball, which seemed to be the center of the sport, to the other side of the field. There, a person from the opposite team caught it, and proceeded to make his way down the field as best he could. Along the way, the opposing team would try their hardest to prevent the ball from traveling down the field.

Vegeta smiled inwards, knowing he could defeat both teams by himself if he were out there. But he said nothing, merely content in his own power. Bulma however, was really into the mood of the game. She yelled and booed along with the rest of the mob of people there. At one point, the entire stadium began a chain reaction of standing and flinging their arms into the air, as if a great wave. Vegeta watched the impending task swell across the field, and knew it would soon reach them. His mind raced in terror at this embarrassing crowd device, knowing that if he did it, he would look like a complete fool. Yet if he didn't, he would be the only one not doing it, and Bulma would launch into a tirade of how he should relax and enjoy things. Or worse, she would be disappointed that her idea of bringing him here hadn't worked.

As the wave neared them, he made his mind. He would do it, but not without a good reason. And when it hit, he was there, standing and flinging his arms into the air with everyone else, and blushing beet-red to boot.

"Wow Vegeta, I guess you're really getting into it, huh?" Bulma said with a smile, nudging his arm.

"Nonsense, someone shoved me from behind!" He wouldn't dare admit to doing that of his own volition. Bulma just smiled, not saying anything to the contrary.

The game went on, the Razorsaurs being ahead 21 to 17 at the start of the second half. Vegeta was actually enjoying the spectacle, having even found a human which he favored most as the best athlete on the field. It was number 12 on the Razorsaurs, a man who was both fast and powerful (by these people's standards), having already made it across the field with the ball twice, scoring two sets of points. He was also rather proficient at holding his own against attackers from the opposite team who wanted to flatten him.

Vegeta never cheered or shouted catcalls, though Bulma never expected him to. She was glad he was having a good time, and she could tell he was by his lack of usual crossed-armed stern-faced hard-ass attitude.

At a late ten o' clock, the game ended in victory for the Razorsaurs 31 to 28. Vegeta and Bulma decided to skip the arduous procession of people exiting the place and simply fly home from their seats in the open-topped stadium. Few people noticed them leave, and they really didn't care who did.

The flight home was tiring, though not from physical discomfort. Vegeta had already exhausted himself in training, and Bulma hadn't exactly lounged about all day. She had busied herself preparing the premises for the arrival of guests the next day. So she wearily clung to the Saiyan, and he fought back his urge to shut his eyes until he was in his bed, where that would be appropriate.

Vegeta landed on Bulma's balcony, depositing her to the comfort of her own effects. He stood there again, a scene reminiscent of the previous night, with a similar emotional situation, "I enjoyed myself tonight, I appreciate your invitation." He said, trying to show appreciation without sounding like a limp-wrist.

"Thanks Vegeta, I had fun too. I'm glad you're starting to have some fun." She dared to express this much, and was rewarded not by a comeback from Vegeta, but a slight smile.

And the latter had decided to pick up the pieces that were there for him, taking incentive tonight, as opposed to the previous. Without another word, he leaned forward and kissed Bulma. He had never done this before, so he tried to replicate the same motions she had used last night. Yet for some reason there was no embarrassment or loss of pride from this. Instead it felt more right in a sense than he had felt in a long time. When he withdrew, he saw her smiling, apparently pleased with his actions. He wanted to do it again, finding the intimacy and general aura of her to be intoxicating. But he thought better of it. He didn't want to come off as pushy, and he wasn't entirely sure she had that sort of feelings for him. So with a bidding goodnight, he flew from her balcony, to rest the night and ponder these strange new things happening to him.

* * *

A/N – Right, well before you guys start throwing things at me about this football game, I want you all to remember that the world of DBZ does indeed have football! Yes, if you want to know when and where, recall Mr. Satan's plea to fat Majin Buu, telling him some other things to do instead of killing people; go to the movies, play with the dog, watch football! Other than that I took some liberties with the teams and such. Hope ya'll enjoyed. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Two Worlds – 4**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ

* * *

He awoke at around eight, sitting up in bed with a rather refreshed feeling. He dressed himself in his usual training gi and proceeded towards the gravity room. But about halfway there, he remembered what today was. Bulma had told him that today and tomorrow, her friends were all coming over for a few days of rest and fun. Personally, he had no interest in spending any time with Kakarott and his friends, but he knew he needed a small break from training. That and for some reason he was starting to find it difficult to resist Bulma's charm.

So with a small grunt, he turned and went back towards the main housing area to find Bulma. He felt he needed to do something if he couldn't train, and perhaps she had something he could do to waste time. He found her on the back patio which overlooked the area his training capsule was. She was setting up a table with some chairs to accommodate people.

"Oh hey Vegeta, good morning." She smiled as she saw him come from within.

"Yes, I suppose it is. Same to you." He stood against the wall and crossed his arms, finding it hard to just stand about and not train.

"So what's up? Anything you want to talk about?" Bulma asked as she continued her preparations.

"Yes actually. Do you have something I can do to kill some time? I said I wouldn't train today, but sitting about on my rear will not cut it." He said this in a rather joking manner, finding his cocky attitude strangely absent when around her.

"Well everything that you could do is done already. I don't suppose you'd want to cook?" She grinned as she spoke, knowing he wouldn't think of such a thing.

"Of course not." He said.

"I'm sorry." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's fine. I guess I'll just go over here and do some pushups or something." He walked across the yard and found a nice sunny spot and stretched a moment before falling to the ground and proceeding to blaze through pushups as if weightless. Of course in the normal gravity of the planet, he'd have to do a great deal to even feel anything.

'He'll never change in that respect,' Bulma said to herself, 'but if I've got anything to say about it, he'll come around in a few others.'

* * *

About two hours later, the doorbell sounded at the front door. Mrs. Brief opened the door to find Krillin and Master Roshi.

"Hi guys!" Mrs. Brief said in her cheerful tone, as she let the two in.

"Hello!" Krillin said in reply.

"Yes, hello! My, you're looking rather lovely today, hehe." Roshi said, staring at her.

"She's married, you shameless old hermit." Krillin whispered in his ear, despite Roshi's gawking. Mrs. Brief was a rather attractive woman for her age, and the old man never failed to notice.

"You boys are too much," she said with a laugh, "well come on, Bulma and Vegeta are out back."

"What? Vegeta's here!" Krillin exclaimed, starting to panic.

"Oh you didn't know that?" Mrs. Brief asked.

"No, wh-why is he here?" Krillin asked, shaking like a leaf.

"Well he's staying with us for training. He works so hard, training at over four hundred times earth's normal gravity and all."

"F-f-f-four hundred! How is that possible?"

"For a guy like Vegeta, anything's possible." The three of them turned to see Kakarott and his family, along with Piccollo standing in the doorway, "Hey guys."

"Hey Goku, boy am I glad you're here. I don't wanna be here with Vegeta by myself." Krillin was still shaking a bit.

"Oh it's all right. He's working to beat the androids the same as the rest of us, so take it easy." Goku said, placing a hand on the little man's shoulder, "Well, I'm starving! When do we eat?"

* * *

Another hour later, the gang was eating and talking and having a rather good time. All that is except Vegeta, who insisted on standing like an angry statue against the wall. Bulma had tried to coax him into the merrymaking, but he would have nothing to do with it. It seemed his newfound sense of personableness ended where anyone except Bulma entered the picture. In a sense, she was flattered by this realization. But it also made her rather frustrated, for she liked him when he was being nice, and would have liked it if he would have been there by her side during this little vacation. But she hadn't given up hope on his coming around just yet.

"Hey guys, I've got an idea," Krillin said, after finishing a hot dog, "how about we all go out tonight? I've gotta get me a girl, you guys!"

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea." Bulma pitched it, always one for a night out on the town.

"I don't know, Gohan's a little too young to be in nightclubs." Chi-Chi said, being the protective parent she was.

"I'll watch Gohan if you go," Piccollo said, "There's no way I'll submit myself to anything like that."

"Yeah, come on Chi-Chi," Goku said, "We haven't been out together in years! It'll be fun."

"Oh so Mr. Train-all-day-every-day is actually wanting to spend some time with his wife? What a day this is!" Chi-Chi threw her arms in the air to emphasize her dramatic performance.

"Are you two coming too?" Goku asked Mr. And Mrs. Brief.

"Oh no, we're much too old for the likes of that. We'll stay around here and see to Gohan and Piccollo." Mr. Brief said.

"Well speak for yourselves," Roshi said with a laugh, "I'm never too old to go admire beautiful women!"

"And Mr. Prince of Saiyans, you're coming too, right?" Bulma asked Vegeta with a sly smile.

"Absolutely not! I am a warrior, not a teenager, and I do not go to clubs!" He crossed his arms in his usual manner, letting everyone know he was serious.

"Oh come on Vegeta, you might just have some fun!" Goku said, trying to push along what he knew was inevitable between him and Bulma.

"No, I refuse!" He yelled his reply, but suddenly lost his anger when he saw Bulma's face. She wasn't displaying any great emotional scene, but had her head tilted low, obviously saddened by his remarks. He then realized how he had been acting with her, and how he was now. It was a completely different attitude, and with his other he had started the ball rolling on a potentially special something between the two of them. Though he was scarcely aware of it. And now he was bashing that with all his might in his old temperamental rage.

'Blast a woman's affect.' He said to himself as he shut up. Everyone fell silent for a while, not really getting the waves between Vegeta and Bulma, but just having run out of conversation for this particular subject.

A few moments passed, and Vegeta moved to a seat next to Bulma, "Look, I'll go with you. But only if you promise I will not be embarrassed in front of Kakarott."

"Yeah, sure." She said, her face brightening. And also at that time she understood something else about the Saiyan warrior. He had a serious inferiority complex with Goku. She chuckled as the pieces fell into place in her head. He could not, under any circumstances, show the slightest sign of weakness or be embarrassed at all around Goku or his whole tough guy act would crumble. It all made perfect sense. She thought it was even kind of cute in a way.

So it was set. They would all clean and prepare for the big night at around seven. Of course it was only about 11:30 now, so they had time to spare.

Gohan and Piccollo went off to spar a little, Roshi sat down to give Krillin a pep talk on girls (as if he was the master), Chi-Chi and Bulma were having a talk about Saiyans and their idiosyncracies, and Mr. And Mrs. Brief went back inside to attend to their own respective matters. This ended up leaving Goku and Vegeta, as much as the latter disliked it.

"So Vegeta, been training hard?" Goku asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Have you been breathing?" Vegeta retorted. Goku laughed, glad to see the proud Saiyan loosened up a bit. Then Vegeta got an idea, a perfect opportunity that may not come again for a long time.

"Kakarott, what do you say to a little sparring match? And I don't mean like your son and the Namek are playing." His face formed a smirk, knowing a Saiyan can never back down from a challenge to test his strength.

"I was starting to think you wouldn't ask." Goku said, smiling himself.

"I would rather we fight in the gravity capsule, but it would collapse under such strain. There's a nice field about four miles south of here."

"Right, sounds good." They both blasted away, excited at the prospect of fighting.

"I wonder where they're going?" Bulma asked, seeing the two men leave.

"Oh I'll bet everything I own that I know where," Chi-Chi said, an aggravated tone to her voice, "They're Saiyans, aren't they? They're going to fight."

"Fight!" Krillin yelled, overhearing their conversation, "B-but that's not good."

"Relax, Krillin," Piccollo said, he and Gohan walking up, "they're training."

"I'm gonna go watch." Gohan said, "you coming, Piccollo?"

"No, and neither are you," He placed an authoritative hand on the child's shoulder, "this is something personal between the two of them, and they must be left alone."

* * *

"I'm impressed Vegeta," Goku said as they landed, "I can feel your power has increased by far since the last time we met."

"Of course. I have been pushing myself far beyond my limits, and today is the first time I have not trained in nearly six months. By the end of these three years I will be far superior to any android. But that's not why we're here, is it?" He lowered himself into a fighting stance, barely able to contain his excitement.

"Nope, it's not. So, shall we begin?" Goku asked, doing likewise. A moment passed between the two of them, each gauging the other's stances and power flux.

Vegeta was the first to act, charging in flight his fellow Saiyan. His initial move was a strong kick to Goku's head, which the latter blocked without difficulty. Goku's retaliation was an energy blast aimed for Vegeta's stomach, which was directly in front of him. Yet the Price was no fool. He spun to the left, the blast flying past him, and used his momentum to propel the back of his elbow into the back of Goku's head. Goku flew forward from the impact, and Vegeta didn't let up. He was on him without hesitation, yet Goku expected it. From his nice dirt pillow, he flipped forward to propel himself into the air, and blasted away to gain some distance from the Saiyan Prince.

They faced off again, both grinning ear-to-ear, "I was right," Goku said, "you're more than twice as strong as the last time we met."

"I know. I saw what advantages you had gained from gravity training, so I have taken them to the maximum." Vegeta said, his pride beaming.

"But you know you can't push yourself too far beyond four hundred, right?" Goku asked.

"Yes, I know. Despite the strength I would gain, it would be impossible for me to function normally here. I will maintain my current training level for the duration of this training."

"Good. So now that we've got the warmup out of the way, let's get down to the good stuff, okay?" Goku lowered back into his stance, still in midair.

"Sure." Vegeta took his position too, ready.

Goku made the first move this time, having accessed Vegeta's power improvements, and making the proper adjustments to his own strength. Vegeta charged as well, and they met in the middle, launching into a melee fury of punches and kicks. They moved so fast as to become blurs of barely distinguishable forms in the sky. Steadily, they raised their power to match each other as the struggle to end up on top proceeded.

Back at the Capsule Corp. all sat in worry of the match. They could feel the force of the blows being landed from their four-mile distance, and they were all astonished at the strength of the two Saiyans.

"Piccollo?" Gohan asked, tugging on the Namek's cape.

"Yes, Gohan?" He answered.

"How has dad gotten so strong? He's been training me all this time, I didn't know he had any time to train at his own level." He puzzled over this riddle, but Piccollo only smiled.

"You may not realize it, Gohan," he said, "but you are very strong. Training you is not the easiest thing for your father to do. Believe it or not, you do give him a workout. And when you and me both attack him, he's pretty hard-put to it."

"Hey Bulma, has Vegeta reached Super Saiyan yet?" Krillin asked.

"No. I feel kind of sorry for him. He works so hard all the time, but he hasn't made it to Super Saiyan yet." She said, smiling a bit.

"Well he'd hate to hear anybody feels sorry for him." Krillin said with a laugh.

"Vegeta's improvement is truly remarkable." Piccollo said, once again drawing everyone's attention, "he hasn't yet reached Super Saiyan, but his power is on par with Goku all the way. When he finally does reach Super Saiyan, he will possess the greatest power of us all."

At this remark everyone nearly fell over in shock.

"What!" Krillin stammered, "You mean he'll be stronger than Goku?"

"Yes, I believe he will." Piccollo said, stoic as ever. Bulma smiled, taking a sort of pride in knowing he would be rewarded for all his hard work. That, and she had predicted the same thing a few weeks ago.

* * *

"Wow, Vegeta." Goku said between breaths, "You really are stronger." They were both rather winded, having fought fiercely for nigh on an hour. Their clothes were tattered around the edges, and their bodies bore more than a few cuts and bruises.

"I must concede, Kakarott," Vegeta said with a resigned air, "you are truly powerful. With all my training, I am still only your equal. You haven't endured near the rigors I have, yet your natural abilities give you more than adequate strength. I suppose this fight is a draw...but make no mistake, we still have more than two years to prepare. I will be the strongest." He let his power level fall back to normal, and Goku did likewise.

"Sure Vegeta, keep training." Goku said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Get off me!" Vegeta twisted his shoulder to evict Kakarott's hand.

* * *

Four o' clock rolled around, and the Saiyan men were rested from their training. Both were in rather good spirits, even Vegeta hadn't bitten anyone's head off since they arrived. To a Saiyan, fighting and training is like an addiction. If they go without for long enough, they crave it like a drug. And when they get a fix, their mood eases into a good state.

So everybody was rather laid back, enjoying their time with one another. Goku and Vegeta however, were stuffing their respective faces, having drained their energy fighting.

"Maybe I'll hook up with a nice blonde." Krillin was saying to Master Roshi, as they sat watching a female aerobics program on the television.

"They're nice, but you'd have a better time with a redhead." The old man sat glued to the show, being the perverted old geezer he was. Piccollo was training with Gohan still, this time trying to teach the child the subtleties of meditative power. Chi-Chi and Bulma were both busied serving the Saiyan men their monstrous amounts of food.

"You're luck you have Capsule Corp. for money," Chi-Chi said, "every ounce of income I get is spent feeding this bear." She sat another bowl in front of Goku, who grabbed it and handed her his empty one with a highly-polished finesse only perfected by years of such eating.

"I know what you mean," Bulma said, "Vegeta had better kill the androids, for all the damaged he's caused around here." The Prince overheard her statement and looked up at her with an angered gleam in his eye. She winked at him, confirming that she was only jesting.

* * *

"So Bulma," Krillin asked, "What are some good clubs around the city?" It was about seven thirty now, and mostly everybody was ready to leave. Only Chi-Chi and Goku remained, having come without any clothes for such an occasion, so he had used his instant transmission to return home and make ready. This had been half an hour ago, and they still weren't back. Everybody figured either Goku wanted to eat again, or Chi-Chi couldn't pick out anything to wear. Both were plausible reasons.

"Well, the best two I know are Temple 39 and Bailando Casa." At this, Dr. Brief bursted into a fit of laughter.

"Dancing House?" He roared, nearly tipping over a lamp with his hysterics. He was apparently the only person present who knew the language, for everyone else was staring at him like he was mad.

"So anyway," Bulma continued, "Temple 39 is really cool. They play a wide range of music, from slow to pretty heavy. It's tasteful but not too fancy. You can have a good time. And Bailando Casa is a Hispanic club. They feature salsa dance and are really upbeat. It's a nice change from the ordinary."

"Well you sound like you're pretty knowledgeable about it." Krillin said, laughing at her father's antics.

"Which would you guys rather go to?" She asked, looking at Vegeta. He stood quietly against the wall, arms crossed as usual.

"I kinda like the sound of Temple 39." Krillin said, spraying himself with some cologne.

"But Spanish girls are my favorite!" Master Roshi exclaimed, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

"And just what sort of dance is this 'salsa'?" Vegeta said, speaking for the first time in an hour.

"Come here and I'll show you." Bulma said, extending her hand.

"I am not going to embarrass myself again. If I go, I will know exactly what I'm getting myself into." Vegeta said, not budging from his spot.

"I know how to do it," Krillin said, "Come on Bulma, let's show Vegeta what it's all about."

"It's not bad, Vegeta," Bulma said, as she and Krillin assumed the position, "you being a guy, you'll place your left hand like this, and put your right on my hip." She and Krillin moved around a bit, doing a few of the moves.

Vegeta fumed in the corner, angered at Krillin's motions with her. The dance was a rather provocative one, and anyone doing it well looked to be rather rapt in their partner. Yet the two only danced for a moment, to give him the idea.

"See, now is that so hard?" She asked. Vegeta hadn't really paid attention to the moves, but knew he would never do them, for her or anyone.

"I will not subject myself to that." He said, plain and simple, "my vote goes to the other place."

"So far that's two to one." Bulma said with a laugh.

"Which do you prefer?" Krillin asked her.

"I like them both. But since Vegeta isn't going to salsa, I'm going with Temple 39." She sat on the couch, flipping through some channels on the televison.

"Well I guess that decides it." Krillin said, "I'm sure Goku and Chi-Chi won't mind either way."

"Won't mind what?" Everyone turned around to see the aforementioned pair standing in room, newly arrived from the world of beyond-light-speed travel.

"What club we go to." Krillin said, standing. Bulma did likewise, figuring everyone was ready to leave.

"No, it doesn't matter to us." Goku said, looking at Chi-Chi to make sure she agreed. She nodded her head and smiled, still shocked that her husband actually wanted to spend some time with her, instead of fighting and training.

"So can we go and get this over with?" Vegeta said, standing up and walking to the door.

"Yes, Your Highness," Bulma said sarcastically, "as you command."

Krillin laughed as he went outside, Roshi right behind him. Goku and Chi-Chi followed suit, and Bulma came next.

"Will you try to have a good time tonight," She asked Vegeta as she walked past him.

"Yes. But only because you're asking it." Vegeta held the door open for her, but she didn't go out.

"No, Vegeta. I don't want you to feel forced into this. Don't do something just because you don't want to upset me. I want you to honestly want to have fun." She took hold of his hand, and looked into his eyes. He hated it when she did this. In this way she exercised some form of total control over him.

"I meant," He said, gripping her hand, "you're the only person I want to do this with." She smiled, seeing his sincerity and feelings through this simple sentence. She was fast learning to read his intentions in his pride-infested world. So she released his hand, knowing his ego would break if anyone were to see such, and made her way to the vehicle. He followed after.

* * *

Temple 39 was in the heart of the city, and they arrived in about twenty minutes. It was a large, low building, made of brick colored blue. There was a relatively small line to enter, seeing as how it was still early in the evening.

Bulma paid for everyone, her being one of the richest people around. Inside the place was all dark and metallic, with twin poles on each side of the main stage. These poles were conductors of electricity apparently, for they jumped and sparked with cool blue currents, which bounced around similar orbs all about the ceiling of the place. This generated a sporadic lively lighting effect, which combined with the music had everybody present jumping and dancing around.

"This place is awesome!" Krillin yelled, heading out to mingle and have fun. Roshi headed for the bar, to get a drink and stare at women.

"Come on Chi-Chi, let's dance." Goku said, nearly pulling her to the dance floor.

"Goku, what–since when do you dance techno?" She laughed at her foolish husband, who only smiled and took her instead to get a table and wait for a suitable song. Of course, Goku knew all about what was going to take place with Vegeta and Bulma over the next three years, and he wanted to help all he could. His simple-minded thoughts never once danced upon the notion that he may do more harm than good in interfering.

"Well, I guess we're alone now." Bulma said, taking the Saiyan Prince's hand.

"So we are. You know you're not getting me anywhere near that dance floor without a few drinks." He smiled and led her to a table in the opposite direction from Kakarott and his woman.

"I'll go get us some drinks." Bulma said, standing, "What will you have, sir?" She played, acting like she was writing an order on her palm.

"Whatever that drink was you picked out for me last time," He said with a grin, "and keep 'em coming."

She left to get the beverages, and Vegeta surveyed the place. It was a good deal more tolerable than their first night out had been. In comparison to those raucous idiots with spiked hair, these performers looked infinitely more tolerable, and the music they played wasn't the whining cry of the punks, but a hard-hitting sound with a beat he could grow to almost like. He saw a large crowd of people off to a corner of the floor all piled in atop each other, throwing punches and screaming at the top of their lungs. They seemed to be fighting, but they jumped and yelled to the beat of the music, and Vegeta assumed this was a sort of dance or game they played. He made a mental note to get in the middle of one of those before the night was over.

"Here you go Vegeta." Bulma said, setting a bottle of beer in front of him. She had another of the same drink she had ordered the first night they went out.

"Well that night ended up nice, so why change?" She said, seeing his look at her drink.

"What is that?" Vegeta asked, referring to the pile of brawling people.

"That's a mosh-pit," She said, obviously disliking the idea of the thing, "bunch of drunk kids trying to be tough."

"It's an admirable ambition." Vegeta said with a grin, taking a sip of his drink.

"No Vegeta," she said, reading his expression, "you'd kill all of them."

"Trust me," he said, "if I do get in it, I'll stand still. Agreed?"

"Sure, but I'd rather you spend that time with me." She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. He swallowed hard, feeling a swell of nervous tension rise up in him. He had never before had a mate, and she was blatantly initiating such on her part. Yet these feeling were not those of the reproductive drive. Some other emotion, a warmer, more wholesome feeling this was.

* * *

"Hello blonde!" "Would you like to dance, darlin'?" "Looking for a good time, ladies?" "I'm not really as old as I look Y'know." "I may be old in the face, but down south--"

"Cut it out!" Krillin knocked Roshi upside the head as he came back to the bar for another drink.

"What are you doing, you little twerp!" The old man demanded, flinging his arms about, "I was just about to score!"

"You were about to score a slap in the face and an escort out of this place." Krillin said, calmly sipping his beer.

"You're no fun. Go back over there and leave me be."

* * *

About two hours, and six beers later, Vegeta was loose enough to dance. Bulma dragged him out onto the dance floor, where a mid-tempo beat was thumping the speakers.

"There's nothing to this kind of dancing." She said, a little tipsy herself, "All you do is move and sort of bounce with the beat. Just let if flow, no certain moves or steps, just whatever's in you." She began to sway back and forth, her arms over her head, seemingly feeling the music a great deal. Vegeta noted how striking she looked, moving as thus. Perhaps this was why dancing in clubs was so popular.

So he too tried it. He looked around to see what guys were doing, but most of them were behind the girls, with their arms on their shoulders, moving with them, or doing about the same thing Bulma was doing, except facing the girl. One pair he saw, seemed to be mating there in front of all those people. But he realized they were fully clothed, and figured it was merely a type of dance move.

With great apprehension, and a thorough inspection to see if Kakarott was anywhere near them, he raised his arms, and moved his hips with the beat, "There you go," Bulma said, moving in closer to him. He still looked like a teetering statue, but he was trying.

Yet as the time progressed, he had danced enough, and drank enough to be really feeling it. So despite whether he could dance or not, he was flowing freely to the beat of the music, actually enjoying himself. Bulma was still there, dancing with him, and apparently having the time of her life. Once she even turned and began that mating-like dance move he had witnessed earlier. Despite having seen it before, he was still rather embarrassed, and glad when she quit (though he couldn't say it wasn't pleasurable).

Once, he turned to look to his side, and saw Krillin there, dancing with some girl. He noticed Vegeta, and gave him a wink, before pointing to his partner and mouthing something inaudible over the din of the music. Vegeta grinned, actually glad the lonely little man had found himself someone. Maybe now he'd stop whining about his misfortune with females.

But sadly enough, it didn't end there. Four other times, they encountered each other, either by glance or physical contact while dancing. An unspoken challenge was starting to form. Vegeta's Saiyan blood was spoiling for a contest, and Krillin was right at home in such a place. And finally, after the fifth time bumping into each other, they turned and squared off.

"You want a piece of me, Vegeta?" Krillin asked, cocky and half drunk. With his new girl, and the beer, he forgot just who Vegeta was.

"Any time, cueball." Vegeta crossed his arms and smirked. People were now starting to see what was going on, and they all moved away, clearing a space in the floor for the two to compete against each other.

"It's a shame to embarrass you in front of all these people, but I don't think you've ever seen this before." Krillin said, jumping in the air and landing on the floor, spinning like a top on the back of his neck. The people exploded into cheers, as he continued his flipping and spinning. He finally stopped, and looked at Vegeta expectantly.

"Have you forgotten who I am? I do moves like that for training every day." Vegeta took a breath, uncrossed his arms and did a back flip into the center of the floor. All the way down, he spun so quickly as to become a blur. When he landed, it was on his head. The crowd cheered him on, but he wasn't finished. Without the slightest movement to gain momentum, he started to twirl on his head, and as he kept it up, he started to levitate off the floor. People were gasping in awe as he defied gravity.

"What's going on?" Goku asked Bulma, as he made his way through the crowd to see what all the ruckus was about. He had thought Vegeta had blown his top or something, and had killed someone.

But at seeing his dancing, he smiled and clapped along with the rest of the crowd. Finally the Saiyan landed, and Krillin stepped back into the circle.

"Not bad, but now I'm going to have to hurt your feelings." The little bald monk moved a little with the beat, before falling to the ground spinning, flipping and rolling like a dropped coin. He too took to the air, performing moves that would make a professional wet their pants.

"Come on Goku," Bulma said, "Don't you want to get in on the action?"

"Oh no! Chi-Chi would kill me. Besides, I'd never be able to do that. How did Vegeta learn that stuff anyway?" He had to yell over the noise of the crowd, who were roaring over Krillin.

"I don't think he did. He's just out there having fun like I told him." She yelled.

"Well I'll leave you guys to it then!" Goku yelled, making his way back out of the mob.

"What was all the commotion, Goku?" Chi-Chi asked, sitting at their table.

"Nothing, just Vegeta and Krillin dancing." He sat down with a grin.

"What! Vegeta dancing?" She stared in shock into the mass of people. This was one weird night.

* * *

At around eleven, everyone was about out of crunk juice. Krillin and his girl, Alise by name, were sitting at the bar talking and drinking. Goku and Chi-Chi were slow dancing to an easy song, enjoying their time together. Vegeta and Bulma had left, and were now occupying the roof of the place, talking. And Roshi...was passed out in the car.

"So you never had anyone...special?" Bulma asked him, her head propped against his shoulder.

"You mean a mate?" He said, staring off into the city, "No. There was one girl when I was young. She and I were to join for political purposes. She was from a tribe of Saiyan nomads far to the north of our capital city. They were uncivilized, but powerful fighters even by our standards."

"But you never had any feelings towards anyone?" She lifted her head to look at him.

"No. That's why I'm having trouble now. I don't know what to do with this." He stopped there, but she understood.

"Well if it helps, I want you to know that you don't have to be anything special around me. Just be yourself, confused or not." She returned her head to his shoulder.

"Why me?" He asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"Why have you chosen me?"

She smiled and grabbed his hand, "I guess we're just so similar. I really don't know. I think you're a good person, even under all your Saiyan pride. You're dedicated to whatever you set your mind to, and that's rare these days."

"I...thank you." He struggled that one out, but Bulma knew what it meant. For him, that was all he needed to say. And the warm night of early summer saw the earth's best hopes of survival having fun with their friends and family.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so the preliminaries are out of the way, and next chapter comes the good stuff. What? You thought it was downhill from here? No way, the Prince of Saiyans hasn't even gotten into a good scrap yet. I'm gonna go before I say too much...but stay tuned! Later! 


	5. Chapter 5

**Two Worlds – 5**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

Once more, he tells himself he isn't growing weak. 'It's not weakness to care.' Those were her words, so long ago, it seemed. Now they were as stark clear as his image in the mirror. He stood in the bathroom, his old self conflicting with this new developing relationship. It was almost as if he were two people inside his one body, each vying for control and reason. Yet he knew, despite both his arguments, what he wanted. He wanted to continue in his training and grow strong, enough to defeat the androids and overcome Kakarott. And while doing this, he wanted to embrace this new thing with the earth woman. He liked her, and wanted to know her and have something special with her. It was the first time he had ever been presented with this, and he wanted it. But therein came the problem of weakness. If he diverted attention from training to spend with her, he would lose valuable time in getting stronger. Even if he trained as hard as he could, and left time for her, there would still be that time spent with her that could be spent in training. When the time came, all that diverted attention could mean the difference between victory and defeat, between normality and Super Saiyan. But was it really wasting time, to spend it with her? He knew somehow that Kakarott got his strength from his family and loved ones, fighting to protect them. And she would definitely give him someone to protect. But he didn't want to use her as this fighting tool. And so the circle continued, tearing at his sanity. Thankfully, his thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"You done in there, Vegeta?" It was that idiot Kakarott, "I really need to use the bathroom."

Vegeta swung the door open as abruptly as he could, hoping it would smack the fool in his face. It didn't, curse his Saiyan reflexes. But it was water off a duck's back, as he went to his room to sleep. As he passed Bulma's room, he was reminded of their return from the club...

* * *

"I could get used to this balcony delivery." She said, as Vegeta softly deposited her to her quarters. 

"I don't mind." He said, holding her hand.

"Thank you for going, and putting up with everyone." She smiled, grabbing his other hand.

"I actually enjoyed the dancing," He said with slight embarrassment, "But it's only a thing I can do while intoxicated."

"You caught on really quick."

"But I would rather sit on the roof, any day." He smiled as he alluded to their talk after the craziness of the dancing and such.

"Me too." She kissed him softly, still holding his hands. When she retracted, he took his turn then and kissed her. This one persisted and grew into one of passion. His quick Saiyan mind was easily catching on to the subtleties of kissing, and his general desire for it led him. And indeed there was desire. He could purely smell it coming from both of them, but it couldn't be, not tonight. He broke the kiss, leaving Bulma standing a little disappointed, "I understand." She said with a smile, giving his hand one last squeeze before retiring to her room.

"Goodnight." He called after her. She returned his words, and closed her door with a wink. He floated back to his room, quite literally. He stood in his doorway, rather unable to sleep. He needed a shower, and time to think things through. This almost led to her bed tonight, and perhaps the only thing that stopped them was the fact that they had company. He wondered for a moment if Kakarott and his woman were...but he quickly shook that sickening notion from his brain. And that led him to his internal struggle in front of the mirror, and Kakarott's interruption, quieting any questions of his doings.

* * *

The next morning came late for everyone. There were hangovers and sluggishness aplenty. Gohan and Piccollo rose early and decided to do some training. Gohan wanted to try out Vegeta's gravity room, but Piccollo spoke against it, preferring natural methods. Kakarott and Vegeta were fine, their Saiyan biology not allowing them to succumb to the effects of drink. Vegeta had once, but his body learned from that and developed a strong resistance. And Kakarott simply didn't drink that much. 

Roshi was the worst of all. He lay about on the couch, moaning and aching. Krillin had a headache, and Chi-Chi was rather sick as well. She hadn't drank that much, but she had a weakness to the brew, and only a little bit hit her hard.

"Well how is everyone today?" Dr. Brief entered the room, showering everyone with his buoyant mood.

"Kind of sick, dad." Bulma was fine, but noticed her companions.

"Oh, that's a pity. Drink too much?" He asked, fumbling about the room.

"Yeah."

"Well would any of you mind being my guinea pigs?" He looked about the room with a smile, as if he held a knowledge no one else did.

"What do you mean?" Krillin asked, not really in the mood for any experiments.

"I've recently finished my touches on a pill that I have been working on for a few months. It's supposed to erase the effects of drinking." Everyone's face lit with this statement. Even Master Roshi, who had been moaning about on the couch, leaned up and listened.

"Is it safe, dad? Some of your experiments aren't exactly ready for production." Bulma asked, skeptically.

"That's what I need you guys for. We'll never know if we never try, right?" He turned to walk back towards his lab.

"I'm game!" Krillin said, following the doctor. Bulma and Chi-Chi proceeded as well. Roshi stayed on the couch.

* * *

"Gohan, what's wrong? You're not concentrating." Piccollo looked from his meditation to where Gohan was practicing his forms a few yards away. 

"I don't know Piccollo, I just don't feel right. Something's different about the air." The boy stopped and sat next to his mentor.

"The air? You mean city pollution?" The Namek cocked an eye to the boy, who was panting slightly to regain his breath.

"No. I just feel like there's a block on my power. I can't do near as much as I should be able to." He clenched his fist, as if to demonstrate somehow.

"If there's something out there, I should sense it," Piccollo said, "but stranger things have happened. Just keep training, Gohan. Try to focus on whatever you feel. I'll try to find it too."

"Okay." With a grunt, Gohan stood and walked to where he had been before. He took a breath and began to punch and kick.

* * *

"Hey Vegeta, what's up?" Goku came up on the Saiyan Prince, who was standing over the balcony, face twisted into a concentrated scowl. 

"Quiet, Kakarott." He raised his hand to hush his pointy-haired brethren, "you don't feel that?"

"Feel what?" Goku looked over the balcony, as if he would see whatever Vegeta was talking about.

"There is an enormous power on the planet. It's making it very hard to concentrate my energy." The Saiyan was tense, obviously worried about this.

"Why can't I feel it?" Goku asked, rhetorically, "Do you think it's the androids?"

"I don't know. It hasn't been three years yet, but that fool could have lied."

"I don't think Trunks was a liar." Goku said.

"What did you call him?" Vegeta turned to look at Goku, who turned red as a beet, and covered his mouth with his hands, shaking his head.

"Nothing! I was just clearing my throat. I don't know his name, I have no idea!" A sweatdrop formed on his head as he tried to talk his way out of a potential debacle the likes of which could possibly prevent a birth.

"Forget the stupid kid. I'm more interested in this power." Vegeta turned back to gaze out into the distance, focusing his energy on this new puzzle.

* * *

"Wow, those things are amazing!" Chi-Chi exclaimed, having taken Dr. Brief's pill, and her hangover being cleared away because of it. Everyone who had felt adverse effects to the previous night's drinking had taken one, and each of them were pleasantly amazed with the results. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna buy a bottle as soon as you start selling them." Krillin said, going outside to enjoy the sunshine. Everyone else just milled about the place, marveling at the powerful pill.

"So what's on the agenda for today?" Chi-Chi asked Bulma, not out of any boredom, but sheer curiosity.

"I don't know. Anything you want to do?" She asked, taking a seat on the couch.

"Well what about shopping? I haven't been to a decent store in ages."

"Sure, I can always blow some money at the mall." The two stood and began to rattle off about various things they wanted and needed. They dragged the boys into their mix, guessing what they would buy for them and so on. Chi-Chi needed to buy Gohan some new study books, and Goku a few shirts. Bulma wanted to get Vegeta something, but she didn't say anything about this.

"So let's go round everybody up." Bulma said, as they walked out into the yard to assemble their purchasing posse. Krillin fell in easily enough, and Roshi. Gohan said he wanted to stay and train, the real reason of course being this mysterious energy he was sensing. But Chi-Chi made him agree to come, and Piccollo decided to follow along as well. Bulma went to find Goku and Vegeta, half worried that they had started another fight or something.

"Hey guys, what's up?" She asked, finding them on the balcony.

"Hey Bulma," Goku said, cheerily as ever. He decided it wouldn't be the best bet to tell her anything about the power Vegeta had sensed.

"So you guys want to go shopping with us?" She looked at Vegeta, who flashed a brief look of annoyance, but softened his face soon afterwards.

"Yeah, I'm game." Goku said.

"I'm not a shopper." Vegeta said, looking at Bulma.

"Oh really Vegeta," she walked up to him and looked him dead in the eyes, "I'm asking you to go. But if you keep this up, I'll have to order you to come." A grin framed her face, telling him it was just a joke, but he stiffened like a board at the mention of an order. Goku left, giving the two of them some alone time. He went to find his own family, who were standing around waiting.

"Fine, I'll go. But if one little punk kid bumps into me with one of those foolish skateboards, I'll kill them all." He too wasn't entirely serious, but Bulma still thought he might do something not terribly alien from this if that situation were to occur.

So the plan was set, and the group was off for the mall. Gohan and Vegeta shared a look, confirming the power that they and only they had sensed. It was still a curious incident, and it was still very potent. Yet it was somewhat a latent energy, distracting, but not threatening. So they let it slide, deciding to appease the others in this shopping excursion. Vegeta made a note though to investigate it as soon as the little vacation was over.

* * *

The intrepid group of heroes arrived at the mall with a very mixed lot of feelings. Most of them were rather happy to be there, for whatever reason they had. Piccollo and Vegeta were dreading it vehemently, their respective dispositions not allowing for such things too often. Roshi was eager to gawk at women, Krillin to find himself one (his fling the previous night had left him high and dry with some rather blue appendages). 

As soon as they parted the doors, Bulma and Chi-Chi darted off as if the place might collapse any minute. Roshi meandered away and Krillin did likewise. The four remaining guys stood in a form of slight awe mixed with shock as to what to do.

"So guys, what do you want to do?" Goku asked, scratching the back of his head.

"I want to leave." Piccollo said, arms crossed. He shot an evil glare at a passerby who looked at him as crazily as if he were green.

"I don't think that's an option, unfortunately," Vegeta said, walking off.

"Hey wait Vegeta, where you going?" Goku and the others followed along behind him.

"Away from you. Leave me alone, there are things I must attend to." He barked at Kakarott, who stopped after he was told off.

"Well, our group keeps getting smaller. Let's go eat guys!"

* * *

'I can't believe I've gotten myself into this. The world could be at stake from that power I've been sensing, and I have to go on a shopping trip!' The prince thought angrily, walking towards the heart of the mall. His Saiyan blood was boiling for a good fight, and yet he was being pulled somewhere by his heart also. He figured he'd take the opportunity to get a gift for Bulma while he was here. It seemed appropriate, and it would kill some time. 

Thoughts as to what she might like flowed through his brain like grains of sand, each seeming ridiculous or not right. He really didn't know all that much about her when it came to it. He knew she liked the Razorsaurs, and enjoyed music. She was a genius, so she liked to tinker with and fix things. Of course any such puzzle to be found here would surely be under her vast understanding. A football shirt seemed ridiculous, he was sure she possessed every music recording of any band in existence, so he was thoroughly at a loss.

"Hey Vegeta!" He turned in disgust to see Kakarott and his boy sitting at a table with the Namek. They were eating, and Kakarott had called to him with his mouth stuffed with food like a child and was waving his hand as if his brain were disabled, "come over here and join us!"

He turned to walk away, but a thought ran through his mind as he did. It would be a grave insult to his pride, but it was something that must be done. With great trepidation he turned again and proceeded towards them. He sat at their table and watched his fellow Saiyan gorge himself like a pig. No manners at all. It was obvious he had been raised in the woods with a crazy old coot for a parent.

"Kakarott, I...need your advice." He managed to spit out the words, and Goku paused in his eating to look at him questioningly.

"Me?"

"Of course you, you idiot! Who else is called Kakarott!" Vegeta was already agitated at having to do this, and the fool's stupidity made it no better.

"Nobody I guess. What's up?"

"I need you to give me an idea for something suitable to buy for Bulma. It is a way of my appreciation for her hospitality." His face was rigid with this weakening display. Little did he know that Goku was loving this, seeing first hand the pieces falling into place for the birth of Trunks.

"Sure, Vegeta. I've known Bulma forever, I'll help you find something for her. Just let me finish eating. You should really get some of this, it's good." The spiky-haired Saiyan resumed his meal, and left the other three there to watch. Vegeta had eaten earlier, and wasn't hungry. Piccollo and Gohan had long sense finished their respective meals, leaving Goku to pig out for another half hour.

When it was all said and done, an army of waiters were carting away the plates, and Goku was leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smile, "That was great!"

"The gift, Kakarott." Vegeta said impatiently, getting up from his chair.

"Oh, right. Let's go." The group stood and proceeded along their way, Vegeta paying for the food with a credit card he had been given by Bulma.

Goku walked about aimlessly for a while, seemingly oblivious to any stores or boutiques along the way. But abruptly he stopped and turned, "Let's try here."

Vegeta looked up to see the sign of the store outside which they were standing. 'Astral' it read, in fancy chrome letters. He looked at Goku with skepticism, wondering what wheels were turning in that malfunctioned brain of his.

"Bulma loves space and gadgets and stuff." He said proudly, walking in the place. The others followed him.

The store displayed all sorts of things, mostly focused on stars or planets. There was jewelry that displayed rayed stars, posters of solar systems, lava lamps, clothes featuring space things, and all sorts of other trinkets and such. Vegeta thought the place was a really bad idea, but said nothing. He looked around anyway, this being better at least than what he had come up with: nothing.

Then he saw it. Hanging from a display of jewelry, a flash of chrome caught his eye. He looked to see a necklace of silky black string, with a charm hanging from it. The charm was a circle of chrome, which suspended twin chrome spheres in the middle. The small orbs were cut to resemble planets, with flowing cloud patterns and land masses and such. Vegeta thought about how he and Bulma were from two completely different worlds, yet they had come together despite it all. He took it from its display hook and walked to the counter with it.

"Hey Vegeta, how about this?" Goku stepped in front of him, holding out a woman's shirt with a dragon ball design in the middle. Vegeta wondered how these people knew about the dragon balls, but absolutely did not want to buy her a shirt.

"No thank you, Kakarott. I've found my gift for her." Vegeta walked past him to the counter.

"Really, what did you get?" Goku peeked his head around Vegeta's shoulder to see the necklace, "why that?"

Vegeta snatched the charm out of sight, fearing Kakarott would catch on. He knew the simple fool never would, but it still bothered him for him to look over his shoulder like a child. He placed it in its bag, having paid for it already, and left the store.

He went off alone, his business with Kakarott finished. Walking about the mall again, he stumbled upon a health and fitness store. A wicked grin crossed his face as he entered the place. He saw a wide array of equipment for the weaklings of earth to train their bodies with. He saw benches and inclines, various machines with cables and pulleys, dumb-bells and ropes, pills and exercise mats.

"Can I help you?" A man behind the desk asked him. He was a rather well-built man, weak of course, but Vegeta respected anyone who worked to the best of their abilities, whether they were pathetic or not.

"I'm just shopping." The Saiyan said, walking over to a bench. There was a bar with about two-hundred and fifty pounds racked on the bench. He had his bag in one hand, and with the other he grabbed the bar. He lifted it straight up over his head and tossed it up and down, catching it with a rattle and clink of the weights. The man behind the desk stared in shock at this spectacle. Vegeta put the bar back where it was and walked over to a wall where various pills and powders were displayed.

"How did you get so strong, man?" The person asked, coming to stand next to Vegeta. He was a full head taller than the Saiyan, but looked at him with the respect due a master.

"I do lots of pushups and sit-ups. And I drink plenty of juice." Vegeta turned with a chuckle and left the store. Little did he know, but after that the man in the store changed his entire workout routine to body-weight training, and drank protein shakes made with juice as if they were water.

So the trip to the mall wore on, and Everyone finished their shopping or whatever. Goku, Piccollo and Gohan met back up with Roshi at the food court, and The girls found them a few minutes later. Krillin took a bit longer to show, apparently he had found a girl with whom he was now walking about the mall. Vegeta soon found the group, and sat down with them. They all waited for Krillin.

About an hour later, the bald little man came over, hand in hand with a cute, black-haired girl. She smiled at everyone, pleased to meet them. Roshi sat and mumbled to himself about sour luck, while Bulma and Chi-Chi leapt into a female conversation with her.

"Hey Krillin, where'd you get her?" Goku asked, punching him softly on the shoulder.

"The music store. She was trying to decide on a CD to buy, and I helped her." He rubbed his arm where the super-powered Saiyan had socked him.

"That makes two this weekend, Krillin!" Roshi yelled, "and what about your poor master? You could've given the one from last night to me."

"Quiet, Master Roshi. She'll hear you."

And as the whole merry bunch reformed, taking on a new member, they decided to make their way home. Apparently Krillin had worked some serious magic, for his new girlfriend was rather eager to accompany them. He was either a serious pimp, or she was a psychotic killer...who knew?

"So what's her name again?" Goku asked, on their way home.

"Rachel. She's really nice. I think she may be a little blonde under that black though." The two shared a laugh, and Rachel didn't hear the playful insult. And as they arrived back at Capsule Corp. the group unloaded and stretched their limbs.

"Gohan, come here." Vegeta called to the boy, who cautiously went over, "Am I correct that only you and I sense that power?"

"Yes. I know Piccollo doesn't sense it. He's kind of mad that he hasn't."

"Silly Namek. Listen, tomorrow I am going to find whatever it is that is making those energy waves. Do not remind Kakarott, or anyone. I am doing this alone, and I want you to forget you even sense it." He stared at the boy, inflicting a measure of the same fear on him that he worked while on Namek.

"But...why are we the only ones who can feel it?" Gohan asked.

"I don't know. But I will find out tomorrow."

* * *

For the remainder of the evening, everyone took it easy. Bulma put her ton of shopping results in her room, and Chi-Chi put hers on a table. The Son family couldn't drive, and this was beginning to gnaw at Chi-Chi very seriously. Yet Goku used his instant transmission technique to get them from place to place. 

Krillin and Rachel courted on the lawn, and Roshi preoccupied himself with a magazine in a chair. Piccollo and Gohan meditated to one side, and Vegeta and Goku had a pushup contest on another. Dr. Brief busied himself cooking a feast, and the three remaining women sat and talked.

When it was time to eat, everyone gorged and conversed in each other's company. It was a rarity for them all to be together, having an actual vacation. Usually when they came together it was over a life-threatening battle or something of that nature. But time wore on, and everyone meandered off back home. The Briefs, and Vegeta, were left with a much emptier residence. The Saiyan was rather glad to be rid of them all, having business to attend to tomorrow. He went to bed early, using the time to meditate and prepare.

The energy he had been sensing was as potent as ever, a sort of brooding power that clouded his thoughts and blocked his ki. He couldn't get a proper grip on his power, so he finally gave it up and went to sleep.

* * *

The morning came early for him. He rose when there was still a think layer of fog all about, and the sun was barely beginning to show through the buildings of the city. He felt a small bit of need to inform Bulma where he was going, but quickly overruled it with his old pride. Dressing in his armor, he gauged the direction from which the energy flowed and departed the city. 

He passed forests and lakes, deserts and mountains. Miles and miles of travel across the world netted him a landing in a wide land of rolling, grassy hills and treeless horizons. There was no one to see within a dozen miles. But nonetheless, Vegeta trusted his instincts and knew there was something here.

"Greetings." a cold voice froze his blood in its veins. Chills pricked the back of his neck as the prince turned to face the direction of the address. He saw an old man. A bent, brown, wrinkled shrivel of age stood before him. He was wrapped in a deep red cloak, and leaned heavily on a tall wooden staff. His hair fell long down his back, but his face was clean-shaven. His eyes held a sort of glimmer. A malicious spark, contrary to his broken appearance, was deep within his eyes, hiding untold knowledge and power.

"Who are you?" Vegeta found his voice a bit weaker than usual. He was strangely compelled to fear this old man, despite his appearance. A wicked grin formed on his lips, and his cruel eyes gleamed.

"Saiyan. Time flows freely, but the trials of hell are from naught. In the grey dusk, find your soul's fire of the deepening chasm in light." The voice boomed through the empty hills, chilling as ice, but powerful as the earth. Vegeta's skin pricked again at the sound of the dark voice. The words echoed though there was nothing to reverberate them.

"What?" The prince was even more unnerved, understanding nothing of what the old man had just said. And somehow, he had known he was a Saiyan. But for some reason he didn't feel like his were the ramblings of the mad. A gust of wind blew, ruffling the man's cloak. A portion of it was blown aside to reveal black folds of clothing underneath. Yet Vegeta caught the glimmer of shining metal about his neck. A charm on a necklace glimmered in the sunlight.

"Power of the gods! Shining like a silver spear from the ethereal folds of Eilummindael, bent into thousand-hand rounds of sky!" He threw up his arms, as if to embrace the air. His cloak was thrown back, revealing the charm about his neck, glowing blue. His staff, he clutched in his right hand, and Vegeta saw a stone set in the wood at the top of the staff, and it too glowed with an eerie blue light. The old man's voice raised into a shrill wail and the very ground began to tremble under his workings. He lowered his head to face Vegeta, and his eyes were clouded over with a glowing white. Then, with the agility of someone a third his age, he thrust his staff forward, and a blue bolt of energy flew forth towards the prince.

Vegeta barely had time to react, for he was enthraled in the horrific display. But just as the blast struck, he had his arms raised in a defensive position, and they took the impact. A sparkling blue light surrounded him, and he seemed to slow for a moment. Then a tingle consumed him, as if an appendage were asleep. But this was everywhere. And as time resumed its course, he was thrown backwards with a frenzying violence that he didn't expect at all. His projectile body came to a rest ten feet into the earth of a hill. He still saw small specks of blue in his vision, and through the impact crater, he could see clouds forming in the sky. He had sorely underestimated this old man, but he wouldn't make that mistake twice.

His familiar anger swept over him as he realized that a senile old fool had just sent him flying. He shouted as he blasted off his energy and blew the earthen mound about him to smithereens. With a blue aura of his own, he rocketed back towards his opponent, mind completely void of any feelings of remorse for what he was about to do to an old man.


	6. Chapter 6

**Two Worlds – 6**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

Where was he from? Why the odd outfit? What was his strange power? These questions were not present in Vegeta as he charged the old man. Kill him. His rage screamed at him. Kill him. Tear him to shreds, leave nothing. Hold nothing back as you destroy this old fool. Grim determination was chiseled into his face as he flew; a projectile of sheer power.

Yet the enemy stood, calm and composed before the impending onslaught. A small smile even formed on his ancient face. He seemed to know something; some secret. But the Saiyan didn't care about confidence. His was the only secret he needed to know; that of his own terrible might.

But his world fell as he struck. The prince never got within two feet of the old man. A shield, made of the same tingling blue energy, arrested his assault. Try as he might, he couldn't push through. A scream escaped his raging being, displaying his frustration and searing hate for being bested. Pouring every last ounce of his energy into breaking through, Vegeta struggled against the shield. He was a flaming rocket, against a blue wall of eternity. He could see through it, see the old wizard behind, both hands clasped to his staff, which supported his restriction.

Futility was on his mind, but his pride wouldn't let him quit. He loosed punches and blasts of his own, but the wall stood. The old fool behind it stood and smiled, assured in his own power. But he didn't know the Saiyan quite as well as he thought. The blue energy wall started to bend under the strain of Vegeta's onslaught. Seeing this, Vegeta knew there was hope, and redoubled his efforts. He blasted his energy to its very highest, yelling as he shot his power in the form of a single blast in front of him. The old man's smile was gone, replaced by an annoyed scowl. His glowing eyes radiated with intensity, and Vegeta felt the wall strengthen. But he was too far gone now to give up.

The world disappeared behind the cloud of nothing, all being focused into the attack. His muscles were trembling under the strain, veins bulging with their gushing blood-fuel. 'How can I be so inadequate? I have done nothing but train, I should be more than powerful enough to destroy this fool.' His mind raced under the strain of potential failure. But little did he know, the old man was having an extremely hard time of it as well. And a thing happened then that he did not think possible.

He saw himself, as if outside in third person. But he saw a tree, bending in the wind, swaying under the gale, its timber strained to hold. And he knew it must break, must succumb to the wind. It cracked. A golden light burst from the split side of the trunk, and his vision returned to the third-person spectacle. It was there, pure as life, golden streaks of hair upon his head, with a burning energy to match. Then he felt the power and his sight returned to normal.

He saw the amazed look of the old man, and knew his own power. "Final Flash!" His hands clasped before him, a golden beam of desperation blasting forth from them. The shield buckled under the strain, and shattered. He saw nothing but a golden light, encompassing everything. Then blackness.

When his vision cleared he was on his hands and knees, his body sore and wet with sweat. And the old man was standing there, hands clasped about his staff to support his weight. He looked up and saw a small smile on his face, "Saiyan. Witness the dream of ages. See you now?" And he was gone with a breath of wind.

* * *

"Vegeta? Vegeta, can you hear me?"

Slits of light penetrated the painful darkness, and he realized it was his eyes letting in light. Foggy blurs of color abounded, but soon sharpened to unveil the familiar surroundings of his room at Capsule Corp.

"Vegeta?" He felt a hand rest upon his own, and looked to see Bulma sitting next to his bed. The warm feeling he had learned to associate with her now swept over him, and he was glad of her presence. But there were so many questions for which the answers were missing. He sat up, feeling the familiar soreness that accompanied a hard-fought battle. Memories returned of the old man and the struggle against his energy. And there were flashes of golden power and black words. He looked over at Bulma and saw her smiling warmly at him.

He didn't feel like whetting any appetite of togetherness with her. But he didn't want to be rude to her, so he clasped her hand in return and said, "Hello, Bulma."

"Oh, I'm glad you're awake. Goku found you in the wilderness and brought you back. You were pretty beat up, what happened?" His skin pricked at the sound of that name, but he bit back his anger.

"Where is he?" He said this lightly, meaning his ancient opponent, but Bulma mistook his request for Kakarott.

"He's in the living room with Gohan."

"Gohan is here?" He asked, looking intensely at her.

"Yes...why?" She was confused, but knew better than to expect a full heart-spill from Vegeta.

"I have to talk to him." He threw back the covers of his bed and stood up, painfully stiff but still Saiyan. He walked towards his door, but stopped in front of the mirror that sat upon his dresser. His hair was as black as it had always been, and he gritted his teeth at this.

"Vegeta?" He turned to see Bulma, looking at him with curiosity.

"Everything is fine, but I must have some time to figure things out."

She nodded her head with understanding and smiled.

* * *

"Vegeta! Glad to see you awake." Goku beamed, as cheery as ever. Gohan sat beside him on the couch, and was silent. Vegeta saw a sort of understanding in his young face.

"Save it, Kakarott. How did you find me?"

"I felt your energy. What in the world were you doing? I've never felt your energy that intense."

"None of your business, Kakarott." He looked at Gohan, who nodded his head and stood, "I must speak with your son for a moment."

"Sure. What's up?"

"It's okay, dad." Gohan said, stepping outside with Vegeta.

* * *

"Did you feel everything?" The prince asked his young brethren.

"Yeah. What was making that power?" The boy was brimming with questions, but held his tact.

"An old man. He was unlike anything I have ever seen. He spoke in riddles, but I think there may be an underlying meaning to his ramblings. Listen, do not tell anyone about this." The prince was dire, so the boy dared not disobey.

"Sure. Are we gonna be able to beat him?" As Gohan asked, Vegeta tensed, anticipating the question, but having his own deep thoughts on the matter.

"Of course I can...if it comes to that." He said nothing else, but walked back inside. Gohan followed him, taking his seat back beside his father. The latter looked questioningly at the both of them, but neither spoke or betrayed their conversation.

"You can leave now, Kakarott. I must train." Vegeta walked out of sight into the halls of Capsule Corp. to resume his working. He felt as if he had been away from training for a lifetime. He could feel his muscles starting to soften slightly, but he was effectively healed from all the months of hard work.

* * *

He had been so close. As the prince trained like a man possessed within his gravity room, all he could think of was the tease of Super Saiyan that had been nearly within his grasp. That surge of power was as water to a parched throat, light in a void. Then it was snatched, ripped away with a ferocity equal to his burning desire to possess it. It was unfair, downright cruel, the plague of normality that he was sick with. Why was it that those other fools could have it, and not he?

And the days passed. They went by without the slightest sign of the power signature of the old man, and seemingly without any progress towards Vegeta's goal. He grew distant again, spending less time with Bulma, less time doing anything other than training. He puzzled about the origin and power of that old wizard, and each time he did, it gave him fuel to push harder in training. Vegeta found himself wishing he would show up again, if only to perhaps give him more clues as to how to become a Super Saiyan. For it had only been with him, that Vegeta had even glimpsed that sweet power.

His gift for Bulma remained in its bag under his bed, all but forgotten in the wake of his determination. He took to periods of training that lasted weeks, exiting the gravity room at the end of his session a bloody, stinking, Saiyan carcass. But after a meal and a shower, he would go at it again: training, thinking, and sleeping in the gravity of his new life.

Bulma worried about him, confused and angered that she had no idea what was eating at him so. She knew it had something to do with whatever had happened that day he was found by Goku, but other than that, she was clueless. Vegeta barely spoke to her anymore, and when they did interact, he was as stern and cold as the day they first met. Some nights she would cry herself to sleep, realizing as time went by just how much she actually cared for him.

Weeks became months, and those flew by with haste. Seven months had come and gone since Vegeta's ordeal with the old man, and with each passing day he had become more and more akin to an animal. Nowadays he said nothing, even to himself when thinking. His eyes bore the crazed look of a man possessed, and he purposely avoided any dealings with the humans.

Bulma was cold. She went about her life in Capsule Corp. a jaded person, lacking the luster and cheery nature she once had. Her parents saw the changes in both her and Vegeta, and assumed they had had a bad falling out. They tried to console her, ask her if she wanted to talk, but she refused.

And on a cold January morning, Vegeta left. Taking his old space capsule, he took off into the sky. Hearing the sounds of ship departure, Bulma rushed outside to see what was going on. She caught the last glimpse of the prince as the door of the ship closed, saw his rags of clothing, his crazed look, and she wept.

She fell to the ground, tears flowing from her eyes, and a searing wound throbbing in her heart that had been present for half a year. What had gone wrong? This question she had asked every day, hoping that a new day might bring an answer. She never got one, and now her prince was leaving the planet, maybe for good.

* * *

The coldness of space was comforting to his burning soul. Buried deep was a tinge of regret for leaving, but it was powerfully overruled by the primal need to attain power. He knew there was no way he could train on that planet like he should. Only in the ravaging depths of space, where there was no warmth, no compassion, no regard for anything, would he have the atmosphere he needed for his purposes.

He found a barren planet and landed. Staggering out of the ship, he saw a lifeless expanse before him, filled with jagged rocks, eternal pits, and an air so cold and harsh as to tear the skin from any normal person. Finally, he was free.

Throwing his arms into the air he let forth a screaming roar, filled with every ounce of sheer agony that he bore. His energy followed, blasting with all the ferocity of a raging inferno in a hurricane, swirling about him like a twister, rocketing into the heavens with its summoning. Every drop of pain Vegeta had, all the fear and regret, all the tension, he let it go. Here in space, where no one could hear you scream, he tested that notion. His confusion didn't matter here, nor his plight. The androids were nonexistent, along with Bulma, Kakarott, the boy from the future, or his own terrible past. Here there was nothing but him, nothing but his own power, his own outcry to the cosmos.

When his lungs finally burned from the strain, he quieted. His energy returned to normal, and he felt the icy inhalation of this alien air within him. The animal inside was put to rest, sleeping along with all the confounding problems of earth. Vegeta sat, letting the harsh wind sear his flesh. He would have shed tears, had they not froze upon exiting their ducts.

Super Saiyan. It still burned within him, this power. Everything else within him had been silenced, save for this one trifle that meant everything to him. Why couldn't he have it? What was the secret? Time was running out, and he was no closer to being a Super Saiyan than the day he returned to earth. What had Kakarott done to get this power? What had he himself done, when he confronted the old man? Thinking about this, he replayed again and again the day he had met the ancient wizard. He didn't really care about the old coot, or what he was about. All he wanted to know was what had happened that had given him that glimpse of sweet power?

Then, like a stab in the head, he sensed a power level. He shot his head up from its downward stare, and beheld the same old man standing before him. Vegeta stood abruptly, wondering where he had come from.

"Saiyan. Again thou dost feel a treasured wind? Pearls in the darkness, life in hell...all thou art, none to behold thee. Fool, Eilummindael awaits thee. Sacrifice! Henceforth thou art legend." Thrusting his staff into the air, the old man began to chant in a language Vegeta had never heard. With each high-pitched, guttural incantation, blue bolts of energy shot from his staff into the sky. Soon, the heavens above were afire with thousands of asteroids rocketing down to the planet's surface. Vegeta stared in shock at this, knowing for certain all those asteroids would surely destroy the planet and whatever was on it.

He looked back down to the old man, but he was gone. Vegeta looked around for a moment before small pebbles began to fall all about him. He had to leave now or die. But as he began to board his ship, he realized he couldn't take off. If he were to leave, the ship would be forced to go through the meteor shower to reach space. There was no way. He had to stop the falling rocks, there was no avoiding them.

"If I ever see that old fool again, I'll kill him!" He said, flying with all his might into the sky. Those were the first words he had spoken in months, and they sounded strange to his ears. But the matter at hand called for his complete attention, and he had no time to ponder aught else.

As he met the first wave of rocks, he went to work smashing them into non-threatening pieces of debris. Launching blasts, punches, kicks, and anything else he could do to destroy the meteors, the Saiyan was on fire. For a full three hours he relentlessly attacked the storm. There seemed to be no end to the rocks, and he was beginning to tire. So far, he had let none escape him. If too many were to reach the surface, they could destroy the planet, or his ship.

As he persisted, the asteroids seemed to multiply. For every one he shattered, three more would be staring him in the face, or nearly crashing on the surface of the planet. He had to be everywhere, but that was impossible. Soon, as his energy continued to dwindle, a meteor here and there would escape him. He yelled as he attacked the thousands of rocks, angry at this insane thing that wizard had done to him. For what else could he be than some old conjurer? Wielding a staff and speaking like that, he was no proper warrior for sure.

But his thoughts were knocked our of alignment as a massive meteor smashed into him before he could strike it. And ere he could free himself from the falling mass, it collided with another, effectively pinning him between the two. He was too spent to break free, too weak to move. As he hurtled downward, he saw great blasts of rock and ice spraying from the surface, where the asteroids were getting by. He yelled as he tried to break free, but it was to no avail.

Then, as the spinning prison allowed him a view of his ship, he saw a meteor heading directly for it. It was on a perfect trajectory for the capsule, and the end of Vegeta's life if it were to hit. There was nothing he could do to stop it. Everything in him strained to break free from the rocks to save his vessel, to save his life. The outside world was a blank sheet of black, save for that rock heading for his ship and his own inadequate ability.

And in an instant, as if a mighty tree breaking under the strain of a gale, he felt the liberation. A weightlessness encompassed him, followed by a surge of renewed energy. Faster than he had ever imagined, he blasted away the asteroids that pinned him, and raced towards the rock that was to hit his ship. He reached it just before it struck, and with minimal effort vaporized it with a blast.

The meteors disappeared. As he looked into the sky, he saw nothing but stars and blackness. There were no traces of any asteroids; no craters in the planet, no debris. As he looked about in confusion, he came to a realization. He held his hand in front of him, and beheld a golden aura flowing about it. The same radiated about his feet and body. Looking at the reflective metal of one of the ship's deflectors, he saw a his head. Golden spikes of hair stood atop his crown, and his eyes stared back at him a green hue. He was a Super Saiyan.

There were no words. More tears froze in his eyes as he stared at his reflection in the barely adequate metal mirror. He stood for what seemed like hours, not believing his own green eyes. He had done it. He had achieved his goal, and fulfilled his birthright. Vegeta stepped away from the ship, looking about the planet for the old man. Surely that storm was of his doing. It had been a trial, a test to see if Vegeta could beat his fate. Or so he guessed.

"Show yourself!" He yelled. "Why have you helped me?" Nothing but a hundred echoes answered him. He stood in silence for a while, still hoping for a response from anywhere. Whistles of wind were all that spoke, and after waiting a while longer, he made for the door to his ship. But just as he was about to close the door, he heard the wind carry a ghostly voice.

"_Eilummindael_" Vegeta turned around, but saw no one. He looked down and to his surprise, there lay a book. It was a large volume, wrapped in leather and bound with stout metal hinges. The pages were yellowed with countless ages, and as he opened it, he saw the words were in the Saiyan language. The symbolic runes of the dead planet Vegeta danced about the page, forcing Vegeta to dig deep in recollection of his old schooling in that tongue.

Despite the wonder at this, Vegeta was still overcome with elation at his new transformation. With a grin spanning ear to ear, he set the book down on a table in his ship, and flew forth into the frozen wastes of the planet to test his new abilities.


	7. Chapter 7

**Two Worlds – 7**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

* * *

It was amazing. Vegeta had never known such speed, such strength. Like a child, he flitted around the planet, marveling at his own newfound abilities. He laughed freely as he powered up and watched the golden flames of energy flow about him. Now he had done it, finally. He was a Super Saiyan, the most powerful force in the universe! Even Kakarott would be inferior to him now, and if he were to see that boy again, he would make it a point to laugh in his face. This was glorious!

* * *

Hours later, he returned to his ship. He felt ten feet tall with his new power, and able to handle any trifle life earth could throw at him. He had reached his goal, and with almost a full two years to spare! Now training could become regular again, he no longer had a need to work like a madman. And as the door to his ship closed, and Vegeta caught the last glimpse of stars in the sky, he thought of Bulma.

He worried about her, knowing how he had been acting lately. Perhaps she would understand, but he doubted it. He had all but disowned her, without the slightest explanation. Something of his old self put a thought through his head of not needing understanding from a servant, but he quickly overruled it. He was too pleased with himself to feel so cold-hearted, and he realized how much he missed her.

The journey back to earth was a three day one, and as Vegeta sat in thought, he remembered the book. With a curious trepidation, he opened it to its first page and began to read:

* * *

'Frelnor, Saiyan warrior of the Radlani tribe. Vegeta-year, 947, moon hour 11'

"947? That was over two thousand years ago." Vegeta said to himself aloud, amazed at the age of this thing. Apparently it was a journal of some sort. He continued:

'Baranoth has been speaking of the Eilummindael lately. I believe he is losing what small sanity remains in his old head. It is held as common knowledge that the secret to the transformation was lost ages ago. I have utmost respect for the sage, but that is of small matter. If the King believes he may again stir in the hearts of the warriors a desire to reach the golden power of our fathers, he will have Baranoth killed. Though it pains me to question my King, I must wonder if Baranoth truly has discovered the secret to Eilummindael. I shall speak with him.'

'Moon hour 13'

'I spoke with the sage yesterday, and we held council for long hours. Mad though he may be, I am finding his evidence of this power to be rather compelling. He has shown me the ancient texts which describe the golden transformation, and I believe it may indeed be possible to call upon this power again. Something is happening though, for everywhere the warriors of the King assemble in greater number than usual. We are at peace with the Tikan for now, so I cannot help but wonder if these men are preparing to take Baranoth.

'Moon hour 14'

'They attacked at dawn. I was in Baranoth's dwelling as the warriors stormed it. They burned everything, all the ancient texts. I aided Baranoth in his escape, and now I fear I too am a rebel against my King. Though I regret it somewhat, I know now that the sage speaks the truth. He was wounded in the attack, but he has promised that he shall give me the power of Eilummindael! I asked him why, and he told me I had a destiny. He spoke largely in riddles, but I believe he means that I have a latent power within me that has yet to be tapped. He must know something of me that I do not, for I believe myself to be rather ordinary.'

"Remarkable," Vegeta said, pausing in his reading, "was that old man Baranoth? Was he a ghost or something? This is extraordinary, a live account of the second rebirth of the legend of Super Saiyan. I had no idea its proper name is Eilummindael." With renewed interest, the prince read on:

'Moon hour 17'

'Today is a black day. They have slain Baranoth. I wonder if the old man knew what he was doing, as he shouted his riddles to me from the headman's block. I have achieved the Golden Transformation, but only by witnessing his death. It pushed me over the edge, and my sorrow at his passing caused my transformation. I heard him tell the King that he shall live on, teaching the ways of Eilummindael to all who are ready. I believe his spirit shall be immortal, free to spread the truth of the ancient power. Now I shall make it my journey to give a true account of the ways of Eilummindael, from all that I remember of the old texts, all that Baranoth told me, and all that I now feel.'

Vegeta looked up from the book, feeling a new understanding of his race. So, Baranoth had indeed helped him, in his form as a ghost, "Well thanks, ancestor." The prince chuckled, continuing in his reading.

* * *

Capsule Corporation shook with the sound of a landing space craft. Bulma looked out of her window and saw the very ship Vegeta had left in landing on the platform. A ray of excitement shot through her, but quickly fell away to her accustomed shell of defense. Nowadays she understood better than ever the old wall Vegeta put up between him and the outside world. It was the only way to avoid being hurt.

Nevertheless, she went outside, telling herself with every step not to get her hopes up. How could she expect him to be changed? It was a miracle he showed her what affection he had, and with his reverting back to his old self, it was only a matter of time. Now she stood in front of the ship, waiting for something. She didn't know what.

With a hiss of pressure releasing from the hatch, the exit ramp lowered to the ground. It was dark inside the capsule. But soon, she saw Vegeta exit, wearing the same ragged clothing and battered armor he had been wearing for months. But he was different. A light shown about him that had once only been a void. His crazed look was gone, replaced by one of confident sanity. His pride was back, but somehow his arrogance was absent. He looked wiser somehow, as if he had attained a level of understanding that once was only blind malice. Vegeta held in his hand a book, Bulma noted.

The prince turned and saw her, and his eyes met hers. Now it was his turn to show understanding. He had read the book of his people, and knew now many of their secrets that had been lost so long ago. The Saiyans weren't just space pirates, killing for bounty and fun. In the past, when the Saiyan race was pure, they were honorable warriors. Their ways were warlike, that had never been different, but they possessed dignity along with pride, morals along with their value of strength. And he knew that he cared for this woman, and it would be completely illogical to deny that. A true Saiyan would embrace whatever came from within, even if it be something as alien as love, and Vegeta had vowed in the lonely depths of space to strive to be like his ancestors.

"Bulma." He said, walking over to where she stood. Her thoughts was hard to read, though emotions such as hurt and wonder were obvious in her expression. She said nothing, only stared at him. A tear formed in her eye, and as it fell, she turned sharply and started back towards the building, "Bulma!"

"Stop it, Vegeta!" She yelled, stopping. She turned to face him, and her pain was obvious to see, "I can't do this anymore! I don't even know who you are. After everything that's happened between us, you just ignore me for half a year and then leave. Now you come back, and expect me to be fine?"

He walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "I'm sorry, Bulma. Many things have been happening that I couldn't explain. I had no intentions of hurting you, and I am asking your forgiveness." He reached his other hand down and took hers. He felt horrible for all he had put her through, realizing now just how much that had been.

"I...never blamed you," She said, wiping away her tears, "But how can I know something like that won't happen again?"

"You can't." He was still brutally honest, she noted with a smile, "but so many things happened to me in space, and I think I'll be fine. Just think about things for a while, I need a shower."

Bulma laughed, despite the truth of his words, "Okay. I'll be in my room if you want to talk later." They went their separate ways, the Saiyan to the shower, and the human to her chambers.

* * *

'It will be difficult, but I can do it. I am after all, a Saiyan.' Vegeta thought to himself, while bathing. It felt so good to be clean after so long without, 'I have only been living a half-life, shutting so many things out. I don't have to do that anymore, Frieza is dead. My Saiyan ancestors were valiant people, not allowing anyone to influence their wills. I will be my own person, starting today. My pride for my warrior race will not be diminished, but I will no longer turn a blind eye to other things in life. I am a Super Saiyan, the Eilummindael of the Saiyan race! Nothing can beat me, so why should I worry? I will continue to train for the androids, but I will also show that woman that I care for her. That is, after I wash behind my ears...'

* * *

The knock came that she had been expecting. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to find Vegeta standing there, just as she thought. She had spent the time since his arrival thinking about what she'd say to him. She wanted partly to tell him off, partly to just forgive everything he'd done, but now when the time was come, she just stood there silently.

"Can I enter?" He asked, breaking her trance.

"Oh yeah, sorry." She moved away from the door and let the Saiyan come in. Vegeta stood, saying nothing. In all the scenarios they had both played through in their minds, the 'awkward silence' one hadn't been covered, "Um, you can sit down if you want."

"Sure." Vegeta sat on her bed, and Bulma did as well, "Listen, this isn't going how I thought it would, can we go somewhere else?"

"Sure." Before she said anything else, Vegeta had taken hold of her waist, and floated over her balcony and into the sky. They went higher and higher, and soon she could see the entire city below. It was getting late, and the sun could be seen as a long, low sliver of deep orange, sinking into the horizon. Clouds adorned it, splashed with purples and reds, and a flying 'V' of birds made their way across the scene.

Vegeta noticed how stunning Bulma looked in the failing light, her features accented lightly with the sun's last gifts for the day. He couldn't help but to smile, and apparently it was contagious, for she too smiled when he did.

"This is better, don't you agree?" Vegeta asked her. She nodded her head in agreement, before laying it on his shoulder, and tightening her grip on him.

"I'm sorry." She said, staring at the beauty of the sunset.

"Don't be." Vegeta pulled away from their embrace, and took her chin in his hand. With a gentleness Bulma didn't know a Saiyan could have, he kissed her. No more words were needed between them then. Silently, stories were told and amends made as they danced together in the dusk of a fateful day.

* * *

"I have something for you." Vegeta said, the two of them having returned to Bulma's room.

"Oh yeah, what is it?" Bulma asked, sitting down next to Vegeta.

"It isn't much, but it made me think of you when I saw it." reaching into his pocket, the Saiyan produced the necklace he had bought her when they had gone to the mall, "we are from two different worlds, but we've come together nonetheless. I thought it was somewhat appropriate." He was horrible at these kinds of things, having never done them before. But Bulma made it easy.

"Oh it's beautiful, Vegeta." She took it and fastened it around her neck, "that was so thoughtful of you. When did you get this?"

"When Kakarott and the others were here." He was relieved she liked it, for he hadn't been sure at all of what to get her.

"What a coincidence. I bought something for you too when we all went shopping," She said, going over to a drawer in her desk. She came back with a small box, which she handed to Vegeta. He opened it to find a ring of white gold, smooth and simple in design, with a 'V' imprinted onto the crest. Vegeta had never been given a gift before, and he smiled as he put it on his finger.

"It fits. How did you know what size to get?" He held his hand up and looked the ring over.

"I measured your finger that night we sat on the roof of the club." Bulma said with a sly grin, "I know you can't wear it, since you fight and all. But I wanted to get it for you anyway."

"This is the first gift I have ever received. It means a great deal to me.." He smiled at her, and she returned it. With a sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Yours does too. I'm gonna wear this all the time." She touched the two planets of the charm, and thought about the truth of his reasoning behind it. They were so different, yet so similar. From two completely different lives they had come, yet here they were now. What a strange hand fate had dealt them.

Another silence followed, but it was one without any ill potential. Vegeta was glad the events had unfolded as they had so far. He was fast finding that it wasn't so bad to embrace these things. But as smoothly as tonight had gone, he was getting tired, and was looking forward to a soft bed. So he stood, kissing Bulma goodnight, and heading for the door.

But as he opened it, he felt her hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw her standing with a timid, but obvious look. Oh boy. Vegeta took a breath, and turned to face her. Bulma gingerly placed her arms around his neck and kissed him, and Vegeta returned her actions. The Saiyan used his foot to close the door, and the two of them made their way to the bed.

* * *

The morning came late for the couple, both of them having their first good night's sleep in a long time after the festivities. Vegeta woke first, and smiled as he saw Bulma curled up on the other side of the bed. He rose as quietly as he could, and gathered his clothing. Having finished dressing, he went to her door and placed an ear to it. He had to make sure there was no one outside where they might see him leave. Confident in his Saiyan senses, he opened the door. Looking both ways down the hall, he saw no one. He shut the door behind him and made his way to the kitchen.

Vegeta fixed himself a mountain of food and proceeded to inhale it. Halfway through his meal, he saw Bulma enter the room, sleepily, "good morning." She said, running a hand through his hair as she passed.

"Good morning." Vegeta returned.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" She asked as she sat down across from him on the table, bowl of cereal in hand.

"You looked rather peaceful. I didn't want to wake you." Vegeta continued eating, though making a considerably greater amount of effort to do so as politely as he could.

"Well thanks. I was really tired." Bulma said, yawning halfway through the sentence. She ate her breakfast, which was only about a tenth of what Vegeta had left to eat, and they finished at about the same time, "So, you off to train?"

"Not today." His face formed a grin, and Bulma smiled as well, wondering what was up.

"So what's on your mind?" She asked playfully, tossing a flake of her cereal at Vegeta's mouth. He caught it without a hitch and chewed the grain.

"Well I just think I'll take a day off. Something great happened in space, and I can return to a regular training schedule now. I can afford to rest for a day." He stood and gathered his dishes, putting them in the washer for the first time Bulma could recall.

"What happened out there? Would you want to tell me?" She added her own bowl to the pile of dishes.

"Actually, I can hardly keep from shouting. I want to rub it in Kakarott's face so badly, it's killing me." He chuckled a bit, turning and facing Bulma.

"You mean...did you..." She thought she knew what he was about to say, but in case she was wrong, she wanted to hear it from his mouth first.

"I am now a Super Saiyan, Bulma." He smiled, recalling the feeling of that power that he still could scarcely believe he now possessed.

"You did it. That's great, Vegeta! Will you show me?" She was filled with excitement as well. For if he now had this power, it was a far greater step in their favor for defeating the androids. And that meant a few levels of worry she could remove. Besides, she knew how hot he had been to get to that level, and she could see now part of a reason for the drastic change he had made.

"Let's go outside first. I might destroy your house." They shared a laugh, and went into the yard. It was a nice morning, cool and crisp. Vegeta walked into the yard a small distance, and faced Bulma, "ready?"

"Yep." She was proud for him, knowing how much he had wanted this, and now he had done it. She had felt the same way when she finished the final touches to her first dragon radar. Everyone had thought her crazy for thinking that silly legend about the dragon balls existed, but she proved them all wrong. Her thoughts were interrupted as Vegeta began to growl.

He bent his head low, focusing his energy on the feeling of Super Saiyan. There was a certain channel he had to access to his power, different from just a normal increase. It was a deeper, more solid level of energy that was needed to transform. He understood from his reading the old book that to do it the first time, one must be faced with a grave need for the power. But after having done it once, it was all a matter of recalling that same energy state, and bringing it back.

And with a final shove of his power, he felt it return. It was a euphoric feeling, almost as good as fighting in and of itself. He saw the amazed look on Bulma's face, followed by a smile. Though, in all honesty, he hadn't been one-hundred percent sure he could do it again. He hoped he could, but hadn't transformed since the first time, so this made the second.

"Wow, Vegeta. You're a lot cuter with blonde hair." Bulma walked over to him and looked him over, noticing his green eyes, and the more defined physique granted by the power, "Is it a strain on your energy?"

"Not really. I couldn't keep it up forever, but it's not so bad." He powered down, and with one swift motion, took Bulma by the waist and pulled her close.

"Well somebody's in a good mood." She said, draping her arms over his neck. Vegeta kissed her, then playfully pushed her forehead away, "you'd better watch it, Mr. Super Saiyan. I'm not a pushover, you know."

"Really? Well let's see what you can do." Vegeta raised his hands in a mock fighting stance, smiling as Bulma swung at him. They both knew perfectly well that she didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell...but it was all in good fun. In fact, Bulma was having a good time. She could punch and kick at Vegeta as hard as she wanted, without any fear that she may hurt him, "well let's just send you out against the androids, shall we?" Vegeta laughed and sat down under the parasol table on the Brief family's patio.

"I wouldn't go that far." Bulma said, sitting down next to him, "but if you get out of line, you'd better watch it."

Vegeta chuckled, and looked at the sky. He felt at peace, an odd thing in his life. It wasn't so hard, embracing his feelings for this woman. As long as Kakarott didn't find out he was actually enjoying his time on this planet he had berated in the past, doing the very things he called Kakarott a weakling for doing...he'd be fine.

* * *

A/N: Well I know this one's a bit different from the others in terms of validity to the DBZ universe...but I've been burning through chapters recently and I'm TIRED. So the next chap. will be better, though the update time will be a bit longer. Forgive me in advance, and have a nice day! 


	8. Chapter 8

**Two Worlds – 8**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ

* * *

His gravity simulator was a breeze now. Powered up as a Super Saiyan, Vegeta trained under four hundred times gravity with the ease of one hundred in his regular state. Not only were his strength and speed increased with the transformation, but his senses, his perceptions, his very intuition was heightened. An attack from behind that would have caught him off guard normally was now quite simple to avoid.

It had been some time since his return, perhaps a month. Each day he trained as he used to, working on his forms, energy control, gravity resistance. Only, now he did all that as a Super Saiyan. Before long, he was able to transform without much thought at all. He and Bulma progressed in their relationship, going out together some nights, staying at home others. Though he enjoyed his time with her, he couldn't help but to feel as if all the dinners and talks under the stars were becoming somewhat monotonous. It wasn't her, but the sheer lack of originality the both of them apparently were plagued with.

Nevertheless, and much to his surprise at times, he was fast finding the earth an enjoyable place to be. He caught himself thinking of defeating the androids as a way to defend the planet, not just to prove his strength. Though by no means was he quite at Kakarott's level of sentimentality. And once, he even considered the idea of having a substantial future with Bulma. Of course, a Saiyan never throws their efforts into a relationship without consideration of the end result, but somehow the thought of a life with her hadn't been foremost on his mind throughout their recent events together. This unnerved him a bit, and drove him to wonder if he was losing the very essence that made him who he was. Sure, he had been trying to embrace the old Saiyan ways and accept what feelings may come from within, but such a drastic change in such a short period of time was starting to overload his reality.

But the aforementioned reality was soon thrown into sharp focus again by a training droid hurtling a blast of energy at him. The Saiyan leapt out of the way, retaliating with a blast of his own. The droid absorbed it, before firing off another round of blasts. And Vegeta dodged and blocked those, and the circle continued. Training to him now was as automatic as walking. He hardly put any thought into it, for difficult and challenging situations never occurred within the room anymore. With Super Saiyan under his belt, the gravity was boring, the droids slow, and the relatively small area of the room was so old after all the days in there. He needed something fresh, only what?

* * *

"My, you sure are chipper, Bulma." Mrs. Brief said, noting her daughter's humming as she danced about the laboratory with a cutting torch, flaring the flame with each note she reached in her tune. She had come to offer her and her husband some iced tea, and noticed her daughter's mood while she was at it.

"Yeah, it's just a good day, Mom." The young genius reached whatever she was aiming for, and proceeded to blast it with the torch. Her melody could still be heard through the welding mask she wore.

"I think she may have worked things out with Vegeta, dear." Dr. Brief said quietly, sipping his tea.

"Oh well that's wonderful. I think those two would be perfect for each other, don't you?" Mrs. Brief clasped her hands together with delight, forcing her husband to dig deep into some reflexes to catch the other glass of tea she dropped with her display of celebration. There wasn't a drop spilled, he noted pleasantly to himself.

"Yes, they're two peas in a pod. I just hope they can cancel out each other's personality quirks, instead of using them to compete." The doctor took another swig of the leaf extract, before returning to his work on another training droid for the very prince about which they were speaking, "Thank you for the tea, dear."

* * *

"Come on Gohan, you're stronger than this!" The kid was being assaulted by his Namekian friend, who always seemed to make it a point to fight him using a power level just above his own. This made for rather frustrating sparring sessions, though the young Saiyan knew they were indeed beneficial.

The boy took advantage of an opening he saw, and launched his fist into Piccollo's jaw. The Namek spun around from the impact, but used the momentum to fling his leg around and sweep Gohan's feet from under him. As he hit the ground, Piccollo picked him up by the collar and used his other hand to blast him at point-blank range. Gohan flew from Piccollo's hand and struck a rock outcropping with force enough to collapse it all over him.

"He's getting stronger." The Namek said to the boy's father, who was hovering overhead, a spectator to the match.

"Yeah, his progress is really something else. I'm proud of him." Their conversation didn't have a chance to progress, as Gohan blasted from the pile of rubble and took the offensive against Piccollo, flinging punches and kicks, ki blasts and whatever combination of tricks he could pull to bring the big Namek down. Goku smiled as he watched them, wondering just how powerful his son would be before it was all said and done.

* * *

"Are you sure about this?" Krillin asked the Turtle Hermit, who was finally half-ass training him.

"Of course, did you forget who I am?" Roshi said, waving his hand for the little monk to continue, while he was nose deep in a dirty magazine.

"Alright, here goes nothing." Krillin shook his head as he cupped his hands together beside him for the Kamehameha attack. His target was a rather large pterodactyl who had suddenly appeared above the Kame House. Roshi had saw it out of a lucky glance, and carried on about this being training, "Ka...me...ha...me...HA!" Krillin flung his arms forward, the blue beam of energy following in the direction he had aimed.

The dinosaur had no idea of what was coming for it, but with a chance look downward, saw its doom fast approaching. With a 'squawk' that could be heard for miles, it spun out of the way of the beam, which flew harmlessly past it. But now it was enraged. With an iron stare on the figure that had just attacked him, the pterodactyl altered its trajectory and dived downwards towards the island and the little bald man.

Krillin saw it coming, and exclaimed, "Master Roshi, it's coming!" He ran behind a tree, hoping foolishly the bird wouldn't see him.

"What? You were supposed to kill it. Oh well, this will even more training, hehe." The old hermit returned his attention to his reading material. Meanwhile, the angered bird chased Krillin around the island, snapping at him any chance it got.

* * *

'Another day another dollar, as the earth saying goes.' Vegeta mused to himself, making his way for the showers. Of course there was no money involved in his business, only the small matter of the fate of the entire planet. But who was keeping record?

With a practiced routine, he drew forth a towel from the closet, turned the shower on, spun around and grabbed a washcloth, threw it over the glass door to the shower, removed his clothes, opened the door and entered. It was all fluid and smooth from months of doing it just the same way. He was effectively in a rut. Likewise he washed himself, turned off the water, dried himself, exited the shower, dressed in fresh clothes, brushed his teeth, combed his hair dry, and headed for the kitchen.

He found Bulma in there, and upon seeing her a brightening feeling tinged him. There was a sort of unspoken 'food time' around the premises, in which everyone always meandered to the kitchen for the three square meals of the day. As it so happened, Bulma and Vegeta hit the dining area usually about the same time, which was about half an hour after Mr. and Mrs. Brief finished their doings in there. When Vegeta rounded the corner to the kitchen, Bulma was just sitting down with a plate of her own.

"Hey Vegeta!" She said, jumping from her chair and running over to him. She tackled him in a hug when she reached her target, who returned her embrace before dipping her low as if they were dancing.

"Hello Bulma." He said, still holding her body parallel to the floor, and only a few feet above it. Nonetheless, she pulled herself up and planted a kiss on his lips, before rising and twirling around, continuing his faux dance.

"Have a good training session?" She asked, returning to her seat.

"It was fine. There seems to be something missing though, I can't quite put my finger on it." The Saiyan piled his food up on a platter, before sitting it down on the table, effortlessly.

"Oh? Is the simulator shorting out?" She asked, brainstorming possible malfunctions of the machine.

"No, nothing's defective. It's me, I suppose I'm getting bored." He scarfed his food, speaking remarkably clear in between spats of gorging.

"Well I can't help you there." Bulma said lightly, taking another bite of her salad.

"On the contrary, I believe you can." The prince said, pausing in his eating long enough to convey his thought.

"Really, how? I don't think I'd be much of a sparring partner." the earth woman said with a laugh.

"Of course not. But you can accompany me on a trip I've been considering." Vegeta looked at her, and saw her curiosity.

"A trip? How's a trip going to help you train?" She asked, sliding the Saiyan a wink. He grinned, despite himself.

"Well as anyone knows," Vegeta said, standing up and going over to her. He kneeled down next to her and looked at her closely, "becoming powerful takes more than physical effort."

"And as you may not know," Bulma returned, leaning even closer to him, "I hate suspense."

"Well then, I'll get to the point." Vegeta said, "I want you to come with me for a few weeks to the northern mountain ranges. Think of it as a vacation, if you will."

"A vacation? You? Ha, well here's a shocker. What's the deal?" She laughed, rubbing her nose against his playfully.

"Deal?" He asked, still not familiar with earth slang.

"Why, Vegeta? Why are you wanting to go to the mountains of all places?" She grinned at him, marveling at how he could be so sure all the time, and so naive at others.

"Like I said, I want a change of scenery. I was thinking of going north, to rest my body and clear my head. If you come with me, it would greatly enhance the whole thing."

"Is that your way of saying you want me around all the time?" She gave him a playful head but, and Vegeta grabbed her by the shoulders and stood them both up.

"No." He spoke with a smile, knowing it would provoke her.

"You jerk!" She laughed, jabbing at his stomach, but he caught her fist and lightly flicked her in the forehead with his finger. She retaliated by latching her teeth onto his neck, but the Saiyan got the best of her and with a small motion of his foot, took her feet out from under her. Her caught her before she hit the floor.

"I win." He said, suspending her once again.

"I guess you do, cause I'm going to the mountains."

* * *

The next day they began their preparations. Bulma's mother and father politely declined her request for them to come along, for they knew how young people liked to do their own thing. Vegeta got in one more half-day of gravity training before washing up and starting to do his own packing. When he had come to stay at the Capsule Corporation, he had but one outfit, but with the relentless Bulma and her taste for fashion, he was now equipped with a rather plentiful wardrobe for all four seasons, according to the latest earth trends. Also he had been given some more training attire, replicated from the same durable Saiyan fabric his original had been made of. A few of these and a lot of his winter clothes he packed into two suitcases.

But while Vegeta thought he had a ton of luggage with two suitcases, Bulma staggered him with a whopping six. He had no idea what she could have possibly put in six containers, save for the kitchen sink itself. Nevertheless, they loaded them all into the car and finalized their departure. Vegeta hadn't known it when he had made the suggestion for the mountains, but the Brief family had a cabin somewhere up there, and this worked out great to their favor. This would eliminate the need for seeking accommodation in a resort, complete with tourists, old folks, money-hungry merchants, and massive crowds. The Brief's cabin was situated in a few hundred acres of nothing, pure mountainside and forest. They hadn't been in some time, the business booming the way it had recently, they didn't have much time. But Dr. Brief promised he could cover Bulma's share of the work, and told her to have a good time.

They planned to stay three weeks at least, perhaps more. Whatever happened to suit them, that's what they'd do. Vegeta would never have admitted it aloud, but he was rather looking forward to this trip. Something about the whole ordered frenzy of the packing and anticipation of something fun and different caught him in it as well as Bulma. She had jumped on the bandwagon very quickly, going zero to bursting at the seams in no time. She flitted about like a fly packing, checking, pondering, planning, musing, and telling Vegeta how much fun they were going to have. Once, the prince just sat back and grinned, watching her go from her bedroom to the bathroom, to the lab to the kitchen, back to the bathroom...with almost dizzying frenzy.

But soon they were underway, having been bidden godspeed by Bulma's parents, and they were northbound. In a few minutes, the city was behind them. They drove down sparsely-populated roads, lined with fields or forests, and making horrible time to Vegeta. He could have been there in just a few minutes, but Bulma had wanted to bring the car. She said this would allow them to fit in more, though Vegeta wondered why they needed to fit in when there would be no one around but themselves.

In a few hours though, they began to see mountains. The first rose out of the horizon, eliciting relief in the two travelers, for they were that much closer to their destination. Soon, they were driving through valleys and over the mountains themselves. Narrow roads, with steep drops from the side, and high rock walls on the other were their paths. These wound like snakes, rendering them prey more than once to a large semi truck hurtling around one of the corners, hanging half off the precipice and half into their lane. Vegeta soon realized either Bulma was either a better driver than he had given her credit, or they were blessed with good luck.

Nevertheless, they endured, coming ever closer to their goal. And in another hour or so, they were pulling up the driveway of the cabin. Both sides were heavily wooded, and the path was treacherous from much rain damage. There were washouts and pits aplenty. Oft would Vegeta have to move the car further down the path, out of the way of the bad spots. But soon enough, at the end of the drive, sat the cabin. It was a log structure, fitting into the landscape perfectly. It had two stories and three great chimneys rising from the roof in strategic locations. It sat atop a sort of cliff, made to level the ground upon which the thing was built. The cleared area about it was perhaps fifty yards in diameter, before becoming thick with trees.

"Well, we made it." Bulma said, parking the car in the drive.

"Finally." Vegeta said, exiting the vehicle. They both walked up to the door, which Bulma opened with a key she had brought. The inside smelled of cedar with hints of floral fragrances around in places. The front door deposited them into a large room with a great stone fireplace at the far end. There were bearskins about the floor, one in front of the fireplace, a few under chairs that faced it. The decor was of old, rustic woodland life, many woods and brown metals. To the immediate left of the living room was a kitchen, with a bar that served to separate the two rooms. There was a great wooden table in the middle of the kitchen, with the cabinets, stove, sink and other related items surrounding the outskirts of the room. This was the far left end of the cabin. To the right of the main room was a hallway, leading back to four bedrooms, three along the stretch of hall, the master at the very end. The master bedroom had a great four post bed in the middle, against the wall. There was a closet on the right side, a dresser on the left. Behind a doorway to the right, was a bathroom. In the living room, on the wall opposite the front door, was the staircase. Upstairs was another livingroom of sorts, with another fireplace, and a large window that looked out into the yard and forest beyond. Beside this was the study. This was a smaller room, with a desk against the far wall. There the third fireplace lived, on the left side, with a great shelf of books on the right. Another window sat above the desk, so one could look out into the forest when tired of whatever work they were doing. A covered porch worked its way around the entire house, with rocking chairs situated all about for selected view spots.

"How do you like it?" Bulma asked, looking around. It had been a while since she was last here, and she was pleased to find everything as she remembered.

"It is a nice house. I find the atmosphere of the place appealing." Vegeta surveyed the bearskins and fireplace with interest. On planet Vegeta, technology had reigned, as well as most of the other planets he had been on. Even Capsule Corporation was filled with gadgets and modern conveniences, go figure. So while he was no stranger to the wilderness, a home focused around such life was rare to him. Though he did make a mental note to hunt down one of the creatures from which the pelt had come, while he was here.

After they looked around, they returned to the car to fetch their luggage. It was cold, even for winter, and Vegeta started a fire in the well-stocked fireplace, while Bulma began to unpack her horde of belongings. They divvied the closet in the master bedroom into halves for their respective hanging clothes, while Bulma took the entire dresser to finish storing her other items. Vegeta's clothes all fit in the closet, he happily discovered. They stocked the bathroom and generally made the place feel comfortable while they settled in. After they finished, they got back in the car to get some groceries.

The nearest town was ten miles away, twenty to the one with a grocery store. So they took off again, and loaded down the car with three carts of food. This would hopefully last their entire stay, though Bulma doubted it. When they returned and stored all the foodstuffs, they could finally relax a bit. The fire was burning warmly now, and the sun was beginning to set. A mellow light filled the house, seeming to compliment the atmosphere nicely.

Vegeta took a seat on the couch that faced the fire, and Bulma joined him, resting her head on his chest. The Saiyan moved his arm around her shoulder, and pulled her closer. They sat, watching the flames dance about, merrily crackling their wood-fuel.

"I love you, Vegeta." Bulma moved her head to look him in the eyes, and despite himself, the Saiyan prince smiled. He leaned down and kissed her, displaying his own return of her expressed feelings. She figured he wouldn't say it back, but she knew it didn't really matter. They both knew the score, and it was perfectly even.

As they progressed, Bulma pulled Vegeta's sweater from over his head. The cashmere was soft, but she more enjoyed his chiseled figure. And as Vegeta slipped Bulma's shirt off, he relished her silky skin, smooth and toned to the touch. They made their way to the floor, laying on the warm bearskin that served as a carpet. The fire kept them warm, though they really didn't have trouble in that department.

The prince noticed how striking Bulma looked, her bright eyes illuminated by the fire, and the sweat glistening on her skin in the flickering light. This wasn't their first time by any means, but each time Vegeta felt as pleasantly nervous and excited as he had on their first. It was better here though, something almost primal about the pelt and the flames and the cold that drove them mad with passion.

Here they could do what they wished, without regard for anyone else about. Vegeta noticed Bulma was far more vocal in expressing her pleasure than usual, and this intensified his experience as well. They frolicked and rolled, laughed and sighed in their lovemaking, effectively kicking off their vacation with togetherness.

* * *

The early morning came cold. The fire had died during the night, and they had fallen asleep without any covers over them. Vegeta woke, feeling Bulma shivering, curled up next to him. He wasn't phased by the temperature, his Saiyan body quite resistant to extremes in hot or cold. But it was apparent that she was miserable, so he went to the closet and fetched a few blankets. He draped them over them, and while he waited for them to catch the body heat, he raised his ki slightly, effectively warming the two of them to a comfortable level.

Again he woke at daybreak, this time for good. He stood up and proceeded to rekindle the fire. Apparently Bulma woke during his efforts with the fire, for all of a sudden he felt two arms fall around his neck. He jolted, startled at first by her taking him off guard. He was so at ease here, he even neglected keeping a lookout for power levels. He clasped her hands with one of his own, before lighting the logs in the fireplace with a shot of his energy.

He turned and tackled her back on the rug, amazed that even with bed head, she was still so attractive, "Good morning."

"Good morning to you, sir." She said in jest. He lowered his head and kissed her, before standing and stretching his limbs. But after this he remembered much to his embarrassment that he was quite naked. Oh well, he wasn't ashamed of himself. But he did have dignity, so he dressed himself, before sitting at the table for breakfast.

Bulma soon joined him, wearing a rather large and baggy shirt, and equally baggy pants. She looked very comfortable, Vegeta noticed. Looking outside the kitchen window, he saw the trees speckled with snow, and a layer of the white stuff on the ground. Still, the powder was sprinkling down a bit.

"I just remembered I had a dream last night," Bulma offered, sitting down with a cup of coffee.

"Really? And I suppose you're going to tell me all about it." Vegeta put on an air of sarcastic annoyance.

"Yep, and you're going to listen." Bulma sipped her coffee and continued. Her brow was furrowed in thought, Vegeta noted, "I guess it took place in the future sometime, but it was odd. Goku was a kid again, but he was a little thinner than he was in reality back then. And he was playing with a kid that looked just like you, but had my hair. It's weird, but I think it may have been our son."


	9. Chapter 9

1**Two Worlds – 9**

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

***

"Isn't that strange?" She asked him, taking another sip of her drink.

"Yes, but it's quite impossible right? You take that medication, or whatever." Vegeta wasn't one to be scared by dreams and prophecy, but one could never be too cautious about such a thing as a potential heir.

"Yeah, birth control. I'm not worried, I just thought it was odd. He had kind of purple hair, but he did look familiar. Probably because he looked just like you in the face."

"Then he must have been quite the looker. And if he was my son, he must have been kicking the little Kakarott around the block, right?" The Saiyan took a moment to ponder how a son of his really would turn out, if he were to have one. Other than the severe annoyance and impediment in training, he thought it may be interesting to mold the perfect warrior from birth.

"Yeah, he was handsome. Just like his father." Bulma took her empty cup to the sink, and returned to the table, "Anyway, how did you sleep?"

"Very well, with you as a pillow." Vegeta allowed himself a grin. It was becoming a rather enjoyable pastime of his to tease her.

"Well I'm glad _you_ did. I nearly froze the better half of the night. I guess you finally got it through your thick head and got some blankets?" Bulma returned his jest, liking just as much to pick at Vegeta.

"Next time I'll let you freeze, then."

***

It snowed lightly throughout the day. After breakfast, Vegeta and Bulma went outside to survey the area. Bulma was familiar with it, but Vegeta had never been here before, and she accompanied him in his explorations. He wanted to walk through the forests, an invigorating hike, and perhaps find some other unexpected fun along the way.

The trees weren't quite as thick as they appeared from a distance. Easily enough, they walked through them, finding a game trail that they followed. Great pines and firs were spread about all around, creating a bed of nettles upon the ground that was peppered with snow. It was quiet, Vegeta noted pleasantly. He had become accustomed to the noise of city life, and the hustle and bustle wherewith. Now, without the slightest sound save for their footsteps, the branches swaying in the breeze, and the occasional noise of an animal, he felt a closer oneness with himself.

"It's quiet here." He said, expressing vocally his thoughts.

"Yeah, it's a nice change isn't it?" Bulma said.

"It is far more quiet in space, but it's very loud there too." Vegeta said, looking to the top of a tall tree. Bulma pondered what he meant by that, but realized soon enough. The quiet was so profound as to deafen you with silence. What an irony.

Suddenly, she felt herself being lifted off the ground. Vegeta had her around the waist, and was levitating upwards through the treetops. Soon they had cleared the trees and could see them below. A few furlongs away was the cabin, smoke rising from the chimney. He went higher, and soon enough the physical geography of the landscape was obvious. They could see the rise of trees at the foot of the mountain, and the other hills and valleys around them. Vegeta started towards the mountain, heading up the side ever higher. If he were to drop her, Bulma would be very dead. But she wasn't afraid in the least.

Soon they were floating through clouds, cold pockets of vapor that wreathed the crown of the mountain. Bulma worried about their clothes getting soaked in all the condensation, but Vegeta raised his ki a bit and the channeled warmth kept them dry. 'Is there anything he can't do?' She asked herself with an inward smile.

They landed on a rock outcropping near the summit of the mountain. This slab of stone jutted from the side of the hill, surrounded by trees and treacherous drop-offs. From this vantage, they could see the mist just below them, almost like a floor. And all around, the tops of various mountains peeked through the clouds, brown and green stalagmites coming through a white earth.

"I thought you wanted to hike." Bulma said, sitting down on the flat rock.

"I've got plenty of time." The Saiyan replied, sitting next to her. They said nothing for a while, just sitting and observing this miracle of nature. It was rather obvious here, more so than in the city, just how amazing the world could be. There are so many secrets, so many untold riches and treasures to be found across the lands, and most people live their lives oblivious to the beauty of it all. From the smallest sprig of grass to the largest redwood, the most common robin to the rarest eagle, all sorts of magnificent wonders there are. And they go unappreciated.

"How do you always find these things?" Bulma asked, watching a bird light upon a treetop.

"What things?" Vegeta looked at her quizzically.

"All these great scenes." Bulma opened her arms as if to encompass the sky.

"It's not difficult. When the trail is worn to the east, go west. A fellow warrior told me that long ago. I thought he was a fool and killed him. I was mistaken." He grinned and looked at the rock below him.

***

An explosion woke them. With a start, Vegeta and Bulma sprang up from the bed and ran into the living room. Through the large window, they could see the early-morning sky alight with blasts and smoke, "What the blazes is going on?" Vegeta said aloud, running back into the room and putting on his training clothes.

"Is somebody having a battle?" Bulma asked, seeing the blasts popping all around the top of the mountain.

"I don't know, but they're going to regret picking this hill for their fight. Stay here." Vegeta shot off from the porch out towards the explosions. Bulma watched from the porch, wondering what in the world was going on. Were the androids here early?

Vegeta flew towards the power level he was sensing. He hadn't mentioned this to Bulma, because it was significantly weaker than his own. Nevertheless, it was someone with above-average abilities and not any military equipment like she had suggested.

Another blast hit just to the left of Vegeta, and he altered his course to intercept the origin. In a few seconds, he saw who was responsible. He halted in midair, taken aback by the figure before him.

There, among the tall trees was Baranoth; the ancient Saiyan who had helped Vegeta reach the level of Super Saiyan. Still he wore his cloak and bore his staff. But why was he here? Vegeta understood his vow to aid Saiyans in their quest for Eilummindael, but he had achieved that. What else could this old ghost want from him?

"Ah, so I have succeeded in driving you out here, my prince." Baranoth said with a slight bow.

"So now you speak to me plainly? Where are your rambling riddles, Baranoth?" Vegeta asked, crossing his arms smugly. Though in truth, he was rather ill at ease by the situation.

"You know my name. I see you have read the book. Good, perhaps you may be smarter than I once thought. No doubt you have many questions, but I shall answer your first presently. You now know the secret to the power of Eilummindael, it is that simple. Before, you heard my words as riddles, just as the power was a riddle to you. Now that you are ascended, you hear me plainly." Baranoth's ancient face twisted into a grin. Vegeta wondered despite the old man's previous help if he was really a friend.

"I can accept that," Vegeta said, "but why are you here now? I have become a Super Saiyan, so what other business could you have with me?"

Baranoth laughed; a cold crackling laugh that sent chills throughout Vegeta, "Through my death and the power wherewith, I have become master, Vegeta. I am the master of past and future now! And I have one more truth to give you." He paused, relishing the prince's confusion.

"Well spit it out you old corpse!" Vegeta snapped, his short temper flaring.

"You won't like it, brother," Baranoth said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Vegeta wondered for a moment if the dead could really breathe. But then Baranoth continued, "your woman is with-child."

"What?!" Vegeta yelled, shocked beyond measure at this revelation.

"Yes, Vegeta. You will father a son."

Vegeta was speechless. His mind raced with a flood of thoughts. Visions of a spiky-haired toddler crawling around Capsule Corp. with Saiyan strength filled his head. He saw himself training his son; molding him into the perfect warrior. He didn't even see the spiteful grin framing Baranoth's face.

"I know your thoughts, Vegeta. But just as I knew, you aren't thinking clearly. You see a small version of yourself for you to train and make strong. But you are missing the reality."

Vegeta's mind came to a halt and he stared at Baranoth with angered confusion, "what do you mean?"

"You are a warrior, Vegeta! The last Prince of Saiyans, descended from a pure fighting bloodline. You were born to fight, to do battle. With the coming of this child your old self will completely fall away into the dark oblivion. It has already begun, Vegeta. You will become soft, and weak. Your warrior instincts will dull away until they are but a distant memory. The power of Eilummindael will be but an old trophy to hang on your wall, along with the family portrait." Baranoth was all but snarling, as he spoke.

"No! You lie! I...will not become weak. I have thought this through before. It's not a weakness to care! I once believed what you are saying, but no longer. Kakarott is a perfect example of great power and compassion." Vegeta was so angered and confused he was beginning to feel sick.

"Listen to yourself, Vegeta! You are beginning to sound like that fool! And you will become just like him. Saiyan blood flows through his veins, but he rejects it. He is an earthling now, and soon you will be as well. I had hopes for you, my prince. I had hopes that you would truly be the last pure Saiyan warrior. That you would remember your people and your heritage. You alone are all that is left to keep our people alive! If you fall, then our race is truly gone forever."

"I am a Saiyan!" Vegeta yelled, so ferociously that the very trees around him shook violently in the wake of his anger, "but more than that I am me! I alone know what is best for myself, and I don't need any ancestor of mine telling me otherwise. Your jealousy is futile, old man. Now I suggest you leave before you discover the limits of my tolerance. And I'll give you a hint, you're getting very close."

Baranoth stared at Vegeta a little while longer, an icy rage framing his features. "So be it, Vegeta. But remember what I have told you this day. I see that in the future you will remember all too clearly, at a time when you will least expect to. But I shall say no more. I'll leave the Majin to do the talking for you!" And with a wave of crackling laughter, Baranoth was gone.

"What happened out there, Vegeta?" Bulma asked, as the prince touched down in the back yard of the cabin.

"Bulma are you feeling well?" Vegeta asked, purposely ignoring her question.

"Yeah...why?"

"...come inside, we need to talk." Vegeta led the way into the cabin. He stoked up the fire against the cold and bid Bulma sit on the couch. He too sat, and proceeded to tell the story of Baranoth. He told her how he had sensed his presence when Kakarott and the others were over, how he had been driven into space, and given the gift of the Super Saiyan. He told her of the ancient Saiyans, the power of Eilummindael, and Baranoth's quest in death. Finally, he told her of today, of meeting him, and what he had said.

Bulma said nothing for a while, just stared at the fire. Vegeta wondered if she actually understood the implications of what was going on. He was about to try and find some words of comfort to perhaps ease the situation when he heard her sob.

Looking over at Bulma, Vegeta saw tears running down her face. "I...I'm sorry, Bulma."

"Why?" She looked at Vegeta head on and he actually saw a smile beneath the tears, "Vegeta, this is wonderful! I'm going to be a mommy! And you get an heir to carry on the Saiyan bloodline!"

The Saiyan was so dumbfounded he couldn't speak. She was actually happy about this? A young woman, in the prime of her life, impregnated by a man who isn't even her husband, much less a human, and she's happy? Vegeta then understood what had to be done. He must marry her. This woman must become his wife. There was no doubt in his mind as to his feelings for her, and their strength, but marriage? Somehow that thought had never entered his calculations. Humans may deal lightly with such a bond, but to a Saiyan, marriage is as permanent as the stars in the sky. And by Saiyan custom, if a woman is impregnated, the male party involved must marry her, and they be a family until death.

'So that is what my future holds?' Vegeta thought to himself, 'There is nothing left to guess for me. It is all written, here today, planned for me in advance. I must marry this woman, father her child, and live on this planet for the rest of my days...'


	10. Chapter 10

Two Worlds -- Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ.

Countless thoughts swirled through his head. 'Would she want to marry? How could I do this if she didn't? What will everyone think when they learn I am fathering a child with her? Kakarott will laugh. What do I know of fatherhood?' This list went on as Vegeta sat staring into the fire.

Bulma had hurried to town to buy a pregnancy test. She believed Vegeta's story, but wanted the comfort of a genuine result from a proven testing method. She was still so elated, it was frightening to Vegeta. He was sure the realization of the situation would hit her soon and she wouldn't be so thrilled any more. He had come to know her too well.

She loved her freedom and her life just the way it was. Being chained to pregnancy and the responsibility of a child would destroy the lifestyle she enjoyed so much. Vegeta felt responsible for this, and worried Bulma would come to resent him for the cause of her misery-to-come.

Feeling sicker by the moment, Vegeta decided to go outside for some fresh air. Being outside in the icy winds, he could try to clear his head. It was a vain attempt, but one he made as he stood staring into the trees beyond the cabin.

The words of his ancestor burned in his head. He could see himself now, just like Kakarott. He, Bulma, and a little brat running around. His warrior lifestyle was at stake, just as Bulma's days of carefree frivolity were crashing down. They would become a standardized, cookie-cuter family, complete with the family portrait on the mantle.

Anger was starting to course through him now. He wondered if he would be the one resenting Bulma. It was a fine line they were starting to tread, one that could spell disaster for the both of them very easily. It just wasn't fair! Finally, he had started to open up to this girl. He had put his best foot forward to rid himself of his old ego for her, and look what it got him!

"Give love an inch and it will take a mile." He mumbled to himself. The irony was too much. But as he stood pondering the words that had just come out of his mouth, he came to a realization.

"I love her." He said it aloud, and the sound of his voice saying that scared him perhaps more than learning he was going to be a father. He knew then and there that he was doomed. He could replace his old barriers of ego and arrogance, but the truth would not be hidden.

He was in love with her. He had been for a long time now. And when she produced that slimy little infant, he would love it as well. That little baby would be the personification of his love for her, and his own soul, all in one half-breed bundle.

A faint smile crossed his face, try as he might to stop it. And when he began thinking about it in this new, positive light, things didn't seem so bleak. Nothing would really change for them. He had made his mind up long before to make Bulma his partner for keeps. Marriage and a child would only solidify this decision that had already been made. And providing for the child certainly wouldn't be a problem. They had the money from Capsule Corp. to fund their parentage.

He would continue to train, and this would be like a normal father going to work every day. Bulma could cart the child around during the day, shopping with her or going to the park. Yes, this may actually be doable, he thought.

***

Bulma arrived a while later, all smiles still. Vegeta thought again about when the realization may hit her. He had talked himself into it, but she was another matter entirely. He knew enough about females to know their hormonal imbalances were absolutely enigmatic. Throw a pregnancy into the mix and you've got a pot of boiling trouble waiting to blow.

He greeted her with a smile though when she walked in the door, which made her light up even brighter. When she had left, he was still in a fog, having not yet come to terms with this development.

"Hey Vegeta." She said, giving him a hug.

"Hello Bulma." He replied, returning the hug.

"You seem to be in a better mood." She said timidly, not wanting to risk setting him off.

"I am better," Vegeta said, releasing her from the hug, "I have thought a great deal about all of this while you were away." He paused, seeming reluctant to continue.

"And?" Bulma prompted, wondering what conclusion he had come to.

"I…love you, Bulma." Vegeta said, looking her in the eyes.

Upon hearing these words, her entire being seemed to brighten. Joyous tears blurred her eyes, as a massive smile spread across her face.

"So I know," Vegeta continued, "that whatever happens, that will not change. If you have a child, I will love it as well. I am no longer worried about myself."

"That's wonderful, Vegeta." Bulma said, still beaming. She threw her arms around his neck again and kissed him. He had made her day by handling the situation this way. She had been afraid since he had told her of his encounter with Baranoth that he would grow to resent her and the child, if he didn't already.

"Do you mind if I take this test though, just to be sure?" She asked, referring to the bag that had been dropped at the door.

"Sure. Do whatever you need." Vegeta said warmly, letting go his hold on her.

***

The test was positive, Bulma was pregnant. They had both known all along really, but something about seeing it with their own eyes made it that much more real. They said nothing for a while, both rapt in their own thoughts. Finally Bulma looked over to Vegeta tentatively and found him looking at her.

"Penny for your thoughts?" She asked.

"Penny?" He asked, unfamiliar with this saying.

"What's on your mind?" She corrected.

"Well to be honest, I am a bit excited to see what the child will turn out like. I hope it's a male, so I can craft the perfect warrior out of him from birth. I will teach him everything I had to learn the hard way so that when he is grown, he will be the mightiest warrior in the universe."

"You…want to make him a warrior? But why?" Bulma was a bit taken aback by this revelation. She was picturing in her head Vegeta throwing their infant around in a couple hundred times gravity. The thought was a bit sickening. Surely he wasn't serious.

"He will have my Saiyan blood flowing in his veins. He will have the thirst for combat from an early age and I will cultivate that as soon as he is able." Vegeta saw the worry in her eyes and understood what she must be picturing, "Of course I will wait until he is old enough. I wouldn't want to kill our child."

Bulma smiled with relief. Of course he wouldn't be so careless. She knew him better than that, "I know you wouldn't Vegeta. I'm sorry I thought that. But…what if it's a girl?"

Vegeta was stunned by this one. He said nothing, unable to wrap his mind around what he would do with a female child. Could he train her the same? Saiyan females were often warriors on par with the males but a half-human? He could picture trying to teach her to fight when all she wanted to do was play with dolls and makeup. The thought was a bit sickening.

"I…suppose I could train her the same." He said at length, carefully gauging Bulma's reaction. He wasn't expecting her to fall over in laughter.

"Train her?" Bulma gasped between her spasms of laughter. Vegeta stared at her, red as a beet with embarrassment, "Are you serious?"

"You think that would be a bad idea?" He asked, exasperated.

After finally calming down, Bulma answered, "Vegeta, seriously. If we have a boy I will let you teach him to fight when he is old enough. But a girl is different. There may be female warriors in the Saiyan race, but here on earth it's just not that common. I want her to fit in like a normal girl. I can just see her first little boyfriend trying to kiss her and her sending him flying through a wall!"

"There will be no boys kissing her. I will see to that personally." Vegeta said, emphasizing his words with a growl.

"You are just too cute." Bulma said with a laugh, leaning over to kiss him.

"I am not cute."

***

The months flew by in a whirlwind of events. Bulma's pregnancy went as most women's. She was plagued with the cravings for odd foods, the mood swings, emotional distresses. Vegeta tried his hand at playing the understanding and tolerant man, but just couldn't deal. He never lost his temper with her, but made sure he wasn't around a lot instead. His training held newfound solace for him because of the hurricane of oddity in the outside world.

When he proposed to her, she cried for a week. She was overjoyed that he wanted to marry, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She had sworn since she was little that she would never be tied by marriage. Vegeta understood mostly, his unpredictable nature being what it was. His only snag was that it was all but the law on planet Vegeta to be married if a child is had.

That dispute caused some friction but Vegeta finally caved. He realized that his home planet was dead and that he was no longer bound by its customs. Other than the Saiyan tradition, he had no other reason to marry. He didn't have the human views of marriage being the ultimate display of love between a couple.

The baby was scheduled to arrive at just about the two year mark since the revelation of the androids was given. That would leave him one last year of unobstructed training after the birth. Bulma would be busy tending to the child and since Vegeta had no desire to deal with a snotty infant, he was more than happy to let her have it for a while.

The decision was made not to tell anyone of course. Vegeta would have died if Kakarott were to be privy to the news. He didn't care if anyone else knew, but he knew that it would get back to Goku somehow if the others were told. Bulma was fine with this, they would all learn of it sooner or later after all. Let Vegeta have his way for a while.

Dr. and Mrs. Brief were overjoyed, much to no one's surprise. They both flocked to the idea like buzzards to a carcass and made sure Bulma had all the doting and care of a Hindu cow.

So the whole ordeal went smoother than anyone could have predicted. Once they learned it was to be a boy, Vegeta swelled with pride to the point of bursting. He gave the boy the name Trunks, after a cousin of his back on Vegeta. Bulma didn't object, finding it amusing that the name somehow fit with her family's name.

Trunks was born on a warm spring night in West City Hospital. The Brief family was gathered there, along with Vegeta to witness the miracle. Vegeta was doing his best to maintain his composure, but it was obvious that his nerves were raw with anxiety.

He was white as a sheet through the whole spectacle in the birthing room. He watched the procedure with eyes wide and teeth clenched. Vegeta was familiar with the process of childbirth, but witnessing it firsthand was another matter entirely. He had seen enemies dismembered and splattered on the battlefield, but something about this shook him to his core. Deep down he knew it was because he cared about the woman writhing in agony on the bed beside him. But he developed a rather profound respect for females for enduring this.

The little ball of flesh came out wailing loud enough to wake the dead. Tears dimmed the proud warrior's eyes as he witnessed his offspring for the first time. As Bulma held the baby in her arms, Vegeta knew then and there that his home was indeed here now. This woman and this child held sway over him now more than Frieza ever had, but it was a welcome hold.

When it was his turn to hold Trunks, he did it with pride. Awkward though he was with an infant, he knew just as he had predicted nine months ago that he loved this thing now more than his own life. Suddenly, defeating the androids held new meaning for him just as he knew it would. He had a family now, and that family was all that mattered to him.

As the night of the birth wore on, he heard the words of Baranoth in his head again, "…your old self will completely fall away into the dark oblivion. You will become soft and weak. Your warrior instincts will dull away until they are but a distant memory."

"No." Vegeta said to himself, "I will not let that happen. My training will continue, and I will grow to surpass Kakarott and that kid from the future. My power will never dwindle, but grow to greater and greater heights. My son will learn from me, coming into his own as the new Prince of Saiyans."

A.N. -- We've come to it at last...the end of the tale. Bulma continued to raise Trunks as Vegeta trained for the androids. With about six months to spare before the android arrival, Vegeta took to space once again to put some finishing touches on his training. He wound up arriving a bit late, but we all know how that played out. Vegeta never shows much emotion in the way of his family, but it burns hot deep within his soul. The proud warrior that he is, when it's time to focus on battle, he has no time to be soft. But he knows the real score, as well as Bulma. And that is all that matters for his family.


End file.
